#ancestors pull a ''not my descendant you b!''

[tblsomedoodles]

The promised 'how Angelo got to 2003 Dimension" post (with an animatic panel b/c it's cute.)

note: This is sad. i didn't intend for it to be so sad when i started this au, that's just how things went. For a three year old to activate mystic powers, i imagined it would have taken a lot of very strong emotions to do. So it's sad. It's 'i'm putting it under a break and a content warning' sad.

brief (kinda stupid) summary in the tags for those that don't feel like reading it in it's (admittedly pretty vague) detail. (I'm probably going a little overboard adding a content warning but im doing it anyways)

Content warning: Attempted kidnapping and attempted child violence.

Angelo got separated due to a combination of the twins darting off while Angelo got distracted by a bucket of paint. Splinter was so busy chasing after the twins he didn't notice Angelo's hand had slipped from his. (By the time he does, he's already gone.)

While he's separated, another mutant sees this tiny thing painting a picture on the wall and decides he's an easy meal.

(that mutant is pretty much just Old Hob (from the TMNT idw comic) if he had been mutated by Draxum and escaped into the sewers. Not quite as conniving yet. Still very much relying on cat instincts at that moment rather than people ones. but he will get there. (I liked the fact that Hob is the reason Raph was separated from his family in the comics, so he's also the reason Angelo gets separated from his Rise family here.))

Anyways, Hob takes the small turtle and is halfway back when Angelo starts making a racket and trying to escape (he was stunned before then. He didn't understand what was going on. He still didn't but by then he just didn't want to be there anymore.)

All this does is make Hob mad. He tries to hurt Angelo to make him stop.

Tries.

Because at that moment, Angelo is scared. He's so scared. He scared this mutant will hurt him. That he won't ever see his family again.

And he so very wants to see them again.

Its enough to get his ancestors' attention. For them to see one of their young descendants in mortal peril and decide, that just won't do.

You see, that fear and desire to see his family was strong enough for Angelo to unlock his mystics, but he wasn't strong enough to use it. So his ancestors give him a boost. Admittedly a too strong boost. b/c instead of helping Angelo to make a portal away from there, they helped him make a portal away from the whole Dimension.

a too big portal, that Hob also fell through (though was far too stunned to do anything to stop Angelo from getting away.)

Raphie doesn't know this is what happened. He simply finds a crying turtle tot in the sewers and brings him home.

Eventually he starts realizing something bad happened to get the kid there (a small crack in Angelo's shell, bad nightmares, etc) but Angelo refuses to talk about it. and Raphie doesn't have the heart to push the issue.

Hob would probably be the main antagonist for the "Angelo grows up in 2003" arc. He would blame Angelo for him being displaced as he is. (he's also the dude in-charge of the lair invasion that results in Angelo getting sent back to Rise.)

So that's how it happens.

[smileysuh]

- CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

works. 11 I words. 109.8k

solo works. 6 works featuring other members. 5

Devil's Girl - Seungcheol

⚔️ preview. “Three hundred years ago, one of your ancestors promised me a descendant as my prophesied betrothed. A girl of her bloodline who would bear my hybrid offspring, children with the power of demons and witches, bodies unrestricted by the laws of heaven or hell. A witch who would be identified by the mark of the Devil, drawn through with three lines.”

tw/cw. foreplay, fingering, oral (f receiving), Cheol is low-key pussy obsessed, overstimulation, 5-inch long demon tongue, invisible demon bondage magic, the demon magic can also vibrate her clit a little, bdsm themes, slight choking, squirting, wet kink, massive cock cheol, pussy stretching, impreg/breeding/cum kink, dirty talk, service dom Cheol, consent is a must, begging, multiple reader orgasms, unprotected sex, hand job, dream/incubi threesome with Mingyu & Wonwoo, double fingering, degradation, dacryphilia, etc… I pet names: (hers) little/my sweet, pretty girl, good girl, whore/slut (1), baby, little love, etc. (his) sir, daddy.

👻 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.2k

Night Terror - Seungcheol

⚔️ preview. As much as you love being a mother, you think some of your favorite moments might just happen when the kids are asleep. Seeing Seungcheol with Hana and Daehyun is one of the great joys of your life, but you have needs too, and after a long day, you really need something to help you relax.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, bathroom sex, mirror sex, dirty talk, praise, fingering, blow job, deep throating, mentions of masochism, loud sex, your kid hearing you scream during sex and then your husband lies to her and says it's night terrors when really it's him - he's the night terror, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess.

👻 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 4.2k

Blood Moon - Seungcheol

⚔️ preview. “You know,” Cheol’s lips are feverish against your skin, and he kisses from your collarbone to your breasts, his hot breath driving you wild, “in some cultures, the blood moon is a sign that the moon needs to be worshiped.” His hand moves between your legs, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties while he lets out another groan of need. “Werewolves worship the moon,” he continues. “It’s what makes us who we are, but after I met you…” his other hand tears the front of your dress down, and his teeth graze by your nipple, “let’s just say, you’re all that matters to me now. And I’m going to worship you as if you were the moon.”

tw/cw. blood/claim biting, a/b/o, alpha cheol, big dick cheol, pussy worship, pussy eating, unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, sex where his pack can hear it, praise, multiple positions, breeding kink, size kink, overstim, slight dacryphilia, sex on a car & the ground & under the blood moon, wet pussy kink, knotting, rough sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) alpha.

👻 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5k

Sapiosexual - Seungcheol

⚔️ preview. “You’re a beautiful, bright, young woman, and you’re agreeing to be a companion to some middle aged psych nut who hardly has enough time for you-” you both laugh a little at the way he refers to himself, “compensation is a must.”

cw/ tw. daddy kink/issues, size/shoulder/back kink, contractual relationship, unspecified age difference, unprotected sex, choking, semi bondage, multiple sex scenes, fingering, squirting, oral (m/f receiving), baby oil massage, praise, dirty talk, hair pulling, overstim, dacryphilia, slight orgasm denial, hand kink, etc... I pet names. his: daddy. hers: gorgeous, angel, darling, my love, pretty girl, etc...

👻 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 18.6k

Imagining - Seungcheol

⚔️ synopsis. Your boyfriend is away shooting a movie on Halloween, and you’re feeling his absence. Good thing he’s just a phone call away.

cw/ tw. phone sex, dirty talk, praise, degradation, multiple orgasms, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, toys, bdsm mentions, dom/daddy/sir cheol, bratty!reader, daddy (5), etc…

👻 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k

Trust me - Seungcheol

⚔️ synopsis. in preparation for your wedding to the love of your life, whom you met teaching abroad, you’re studying Korean, and your fiancé is doing everything in his power to help you learn 

cw/ tw. dubious study techniques, oral (f receiving), praise, fingering, protected sex, grinding, etc…

👻 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k

Cam Baby Series - Seungcheol I ft. multiple idols

⚔️ preview. Your heart is racing in your chest from the effort of wiggling down against Seungcheol’s thigh, and you can’t believe this is how he wants you to cum- but now that you think of it, this is definitely something Cheol would do. He has something to prove- everyone who fucks you on cam does. What says ‘I know cam baby best’ better than making you cum practically untouched? And fully clothed at that?

cw/ tw. cam sex, wrist restraint, size kink, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, dirty talk, panty gag, fingering, squirting, some daddy kink, pussy slapping, praise, etc... I petnames. (hers) sweetheart, baby, etc... (his) daddy, cheol.

👻 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 5.2k I 1 part

Penance - Seungcheol I ft. Mingyu & Wonwoo & 95's

⚔️ preview. You’re hyper-aware of the fact that all four of your lovers are just outside the confessional, that they’re listening in- it’s making your mouth dry, your palms becoming sweaty as you rub them against your dress. “When you last confessed, you mentioned greed and lust as your sins. Would you care to elaborate more on that?” The priest asks. “Maybe it will be easier, now that you’re amongst… friends.”

cw/ tw. unprotected sex, orgies, 3some, 4some, 6some, creampies/filling kink, cum play, dirty talk, praise, degradation, fucking in weird places (a tank & church & outside & bathrooms), multiple sex scenes, choking, rough handling, manhandling, blow jobs, deep throating, oral, squirting, anal, double penetration, triple penetration, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, overstimulation, possessiveness, sir kink, powerplay, free use subthemes, getting horny during confession, sins: lust/greed, fingering, sex as punishment/penance, jealousy, dubious consent/inclusion of a new person, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, finger sucking, spanking, spitting, etc... I pet names: (hers) baby, beautiful princess, kitten, whore/slut, good girl, dirty girl, etc. (cheol's) sir. (gyu's) puppy. (others) etc...

👻 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 21.2k

Ice Cold, Cabin Fever - Seungcheol I ft. Mingyu

⚔️ preview. "come on, let’s just go back to snakes and ladders and you can pretend we’re not snowed in with no firewood and a dude you hate locked in the bathroom."

cw/ tw. threesome, daddy issues, mean/tsundere cheol, wet dreams, spanking, marking, dirty talk, choking, unprotected sex, pain kink, dacryphilia, breast play, praise, degradation, fingering, oral, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, size kink, cumplay, finger sucking, spit roasting, hair pulling, voyeurism, I petnames. (hers) princess, bitch, whore, baby (s.coups) cheol, douche, dick, daddy (mingyu) gyu.

👻 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 25.9k

Clowns - Seungcheol I ft. 95 line & Mingyu & Wonwoo

⚔️ preview. you’re a sad, blue, crazy, tulle’d clown - corset and all - riding one of the most beautiful men you know, on the hood of his best friend’s car, exposed to the cool night air, under the full moon on a Halloween night while four more men watch... what could be better than this? 

cw/ tw. dark content, group sex, 6some, orgy, degradation, praise, manhandling, size kink, dirty talk, oral (f/m receiving), dacryphilia, deep throating, protected sex, fingering, squirting, parking lot exhibitionism, voyeurism, marking, horror/clowns, choking, dumbification, etc...  I pet names. squeak (50), silly/sad/stupid/messy/little clown (19+), daddy (6), etc...

👻 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 13.3k

Cuff 1 - Seungcheol I ft. Vernon & Wonwoo

⚔️ synopsis. You and Vernon have been together forever, and your relationship is almost perfect… but it’s missing something. When the young member mentions wanting to spice things up a bit in the bedroom, his hyungs Wonwoo and Seungcheol are more than happy to give you and Vernon some in-person lessons. aka: You and Vernon want to try bdsm, S.coups and Wonwoo help.

cw/ tw. vouyerism, toys, vibrator, power dynamics, unprotected sex, Vernon’s the only one who gets his dick wet, etc...

👻 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k

✘ masterlist

[hellpuppetswithfleshymembers]

All poking fun at captain dipshit and his dumb song aside, this is a good read that takes a real look at what’s been happening for a long time in our nation’s real small towns.

I didn’t know why people kept mentioning “small towns,” but assumed it was a pop culture reference I was missing.

So, I googled it.

Jason Aldean, a country singer I've never heard of and will probably never think about again after people stop talking about him, recently released a song called, "Try That in a Small Town."

The song, if you've not heard it, threatens violence on people who do various things like car jacking, stomping on a flag, “cussing out” a cop, or robbing a liquor store at gun point.

A friend of mine pointed out that Aldean is from Macon, Georgia, with a population of over 150,000.

That’s… not a small town.

I’m from Logan, WV. Population is 1,400.

I came from Chauncey, WV, a coal camp in Logan. Population is 283. I am actually from “Chauncey Holler” (Hollow). Population is probably fewer than 100 people.

I’m from an actual small town.

I’m descended from the Hatfield/Vance clan of Hatfield and McCoy repute. I’m cut from the Shawnee resistance to the Indian Removal Act. My ancestors were freedmen. My ancestors mined the coal that kept the pacified middle class warm and cozy in their domesticated complacency.

And yes, if you come to an actual small town as an outsider and do things that seem threatening to insiders, they’ll handle it internally.

That much is true.

What Jason Aldean is talking about isn’t anything like what people from actual small towns would say. In fact, you won’t hear from them at all because it is not in the ethos of people from insular, isolated communities to try and posture with the outside world.

They don’t think people are actually going to come there and try to burn their crumbling infrastructure and rob their single-wide trailers and their dead grandma’s house they squat with duct tape and cut up trash bags for windows.

No city person is traveling to the middle of nowhere to steal your Aunt Gert’s Buick Skylark, Jason.

They don’t carry enough jugs of oil and coolant to pull over every few miles and top it off because they have not been waiting on that black lung settlement for over a decade to get their car fixed.

Noey (Noah) Mullens, the town mechanic, passes everyone’s car inspection because no one cares about regulations. The police would not ticket Aunt Gert, either, because when most everyone is that Poor, the police know better.

The police don’t “cross that line.”

No one is afraid of getting caught or being reported because no one is looking.

No one cares. No city folk care. No suburban country music singers care.

They’re invisible.

Police do not have much of a role in small towns. People do handle things on their own. No one is spitting in a cop’s face in a small town because Officer Joe Sias and his brother Don aren’t patrolling.

They probably never fired their weapons on the job at anything other than a rabid raccoon or coyote, and they’re considerably less armed than the average citizen. No one calls the police to report crimes.

But in a small town, you are very likely to be robbed by your neighbor’s adult kid with a meth or oxycontin addiction. They’ll steal your grandparents’ cancer and hospice meds and your tube TV.

And no one riots in a small town because they can’t afford to reach the power structures that left them so poor.

At nights, people steal the flood grates around small towns for scrap metal. They loot abandoned houses and businesses for copper wire and metal pipes to scrap. No one is ever going to revitalize those structures, so people just look the other way. By day they pick up beer and soda cans on the side of the road— for scrap.

Anything to avoid the mines.

Aldean’s video shows b-roll of protests, property destruction, violence, and generally unrelated incidents in big cities.

Nobody in those videos cares about what’s happening in somebody’s small town. This is the suburbanite white dude fantasy version of Scarface. It’s the product of having no sense of personal identity and appropriating some ill-imagined mixture of actual generational Poverty culture (which is not a white phenomenon) and a wholly American mythos of having a closed culture that worships assimilation.

They often don’t think they’re racist because they often do genuinely like their Black and Brown neighbors who fish and hunt with them and go to their churches and whose kids are on their kids’ little league team.

They have a vision of living in community that they can’t bring to reality because things have changed since the boomer generation's good hand. They have dreams of being financially successful if they just work hard enough, but those dreams are not coming to fruition because they’re an American myth.

They’re trying to hold on to a sense of grandiosity characterized by surviving struggles they never experienced and by having values they don’t understand or have no connection to.

They are angry at anyone defying the order because they cope with the loss of hope for a mythical future by trying to blame people being crushed by the systems that are also eroding the white working class (at a slower rate).

The rate has been so slow, they don’t realize their sentimentality about how great this nation is came from lies they were told and an identity that is as empty and illusory as the history they learned in school.

It’s the equivalent of trying to be the proverbial “golden child” to an abusive parent, maintaining the illusion that the truth-telling “scapegoat” is actually the problem.

That’s the “great again” that people like that bank on. The proverbial “New Jerusalem.”

Is the song racist?

That’s the wrong question, because it’s oversimplified.

Is the song a mediocre by-product of a mass delusion that white settlers have agreed to maintain because they too had their identities stolen by colonialism, so that they are also defined by Uncle Sam’s toxic legacy as the golden child who is too cowardly to ask questions, hear the truth, accept accountability, or fight back?

Yes.

This peacock of a song is a blatant and pitiable attempt at being unable to accept that they only get a pass from Uncle Sam when they assimilate into a fictional character that upholds the colonial ego of Big Daddy Nationalism and Mama Manifest Destiny.

Unpacking that everything you’ve ever been told is a lie is hard work, and they’re not cut out for that because they’re not actually workers.

They aren’t the cheap labor they benefit from. Their “small town” fantasy is as sincere as their “honest worker” fantasy.

They need to consult their ancestors, and not just the ones who got free [stolen] land.

My “small town” ancestors shot the sheriffs and the deputies, they burned whole towns to the ground, and they led the most violent uprisings in the history of Uncle Sam’s invasion because they did not see the people upholding the status quo as “their own.”

Jason Aldean has no idea who “his people” are. They’re not “small town” people. They’re the middle mass, the embodied entitlement that one inherits when they come from a legacy of settler colonialism, slave trading, and evangelical purity culture that justified genocide.

They’ve been convincing themselves they’re fighting for something noble for so long, they see the loss of that illusion as a threat to the only identity colonialism left them with— generic whiteness.

What he can’t handle is that he’s not a “good ol’ boy,” he’s just a bully doing the business of an abusive parent to preserve the illusion of the “pillar of community.”

If he knew how to be in community, he would not be building a cult following on nationalistic propaganda.

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

22nd December >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

22nd December 

(Liturgical Colour: Violet: B (2))

First Reading 1 Samuel 1:24-28 This is the child I prayed for: he is made over to the Lord.

When Hannah had weaned the infant Samuel, she took him up with her together with a three-year-old bull, an ephah of flour and a skin of wine, and she brought him to the temple of the Lord at Shiloh; and the child was with them. They slaughtered the bull and the child’s mother came to Eli. She said, ‘If you please, my lord. As you live, my lord, I am the woman who stood here beside you, praying to the Lord. This is the child I prayed for, and the Lord granted me what I asked him. Now I make him over to the Lord for the whole of his life. He is made over to the Lord.’

There she left him, for the Lord.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm 1 Samuel 2:1,4-8

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

My heart exults in the Lord. I find my strength in my God; my mouth laughs at my enemies as I rejoice in your saving help.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

The bows of the mighty are broken, but the weak are clothed with strength. Those with plenty must labour for bread, but the hungry need work no more. The childless wife has children now but the fruitful wife bears no more.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

It is the Lord who gives life and death, he brings men to the grave and back; it is the Lord who gives poverty and riches. He brings men low and raises them on high.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

He lifts up the lowly from the dust, from the dungheap he raises the poor to set him in the company of princes to give him a glorious throne. For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, on them he has set the world.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

Gospel Acclamation

Alleluia, alleluia! Root of Jesse, set up as a sign to the peoples, come to save us and delay no more. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! King of the peoples and cornerstone of the Church, come and save man, whom you made from the dust of the earth. Alleluia!

Gospel Luke 1:46-56 The Almighty has done great things for me.

Mary said:

‘My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord and my spirit exults in God my saviour; because he has looked upon his lowly handmaid. Yes, from this day forward all generations will call me blessed, for the Almighty has done great things for me. Holy is his name, and his mercy reaches from age to age for those who fear him. He has shown the power of his arm, he has routed the proud of heart.

He has pulled down princes from their thrones and exalted the lowly. The hungry he has filled with good things, the rich sent empty away. He has come to the help of Israel his servant, mindful of his mercy – according to the promise he made to our ancestors – of his mercy to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

Mary stayed with Elizabeth about three months and then went back home.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[packedwithpackards]

Emails from two former Packard researchers

In an attempt to get some others writing for this blog, I emailed a number of individuals who have put up sites about Packard genealogy. I wrote them something like this:

[name of person] Good afternoon. A while back I found your genealogy website where you write [link], referring to the Packards. You also have a page on the Packard family line.I thought it would be best to email you. I am emailing you today because as a Packard descendant, I have a blog I've put together called Packed with Packards! And if you are willing, you can make submissions to it. It doesn't have to be grand, or much at all. It would just be better if more people could contribute to it. If not, that's ok as well. I look forward to hearing from you. Best regards, Burkely Hermann Packard descendant via Samuel-Zaccheus-John-Barnabas I-Barnabas II-Barnabas III-William Henry-Cyrus, then the Mills family from there

I sent a number of emails out. Sadly, one to Don, who wrote that the Packard family branch "very likely extends to early colonial times but needs further study for confirmation" and a page on the Packard family line, bounced back (i.e. the email is no longer valid). The same was the case for Mr. Butler, whom had a page on Ensign Samuel Packard. However, Mr. Butler, emailed me back through another email, writing that

Burkely, I indeed have listed amount my ancestors Samuel Packard, though the Ensign’s father rather than the ensign himself.  I descended, twice,  through the daughter - sister Mary Packard.  (I found a surprising number of people twice on my family tree, Mary included.) I was very much into both genealogy and the web once upon a time.  My favored software was and remains MacFamilyTree, which automatically generated the page in question.  Although my interest in genealogy has faded, the web pages remain up, thus I get occasional e-mails from people who share a distant ancestor. A few remain favorite stories.  One person wanted to know how I learned the date of death of a War of 1812 veteran.  It turned out a letter had been written from his ancestor to a sister who was my ancestor saying father had died.  That letter had been kept in the family. I’m afraid I have no similar interesting information about any Packards.  It seems my father was related to much of old Hingham.  The Butlers seem to have moved from Hingham to Brockton to Abington to Rockland.  I’m now in Plymouth.  My father chased genealogy the old fashioned way, through legwork and old paper.  I used my computer, chasing Ancestry.com trees through the internet.  I got lots of names and way back, but I had more enthusiasm than accurate double checking.  My trees spread wide, but should be taken with a grain of salt. I have visited your blog and may visit again, but I have nothing to contribute at this point. Bob Butler

After a quick reply, which I won't reprint here, I wrote him back, leaving the door open:

Considering that you spent some more time on this email, it is only proper to send a fuller response. You are right that you have listed your ancestors there. Sometimes that happens that you have double listings. I've had to pull all sorts of people off my family tree so it was overly accurate. I haven't heard of MacFamilyTree before. I use Ancestry.com from time to time, and FamilySearch's tree. I understand that you get occasional emails from people such as me. Interesting story about the date of death of a War of 1812 veteran. Well, that's fine that you don't have any other interesting information about the Packards. I visited Hingham last summer on a road trip, following the Packard line into Western Massachusetts. My grandfather [Robert B. Mills] chased genealogy just like your father. I still have his book on my shelf, the Mills/Packard Family History [I meant to call it The Packard/Mills Family History, but misremembered the name], written in 1979, only a few years before he died. I understand that your trees have spread wide and that they should be "taken with a grain of salt" as you put it. I am glad you visited the blog I put together. But, if you ever want to talk about how you went about your research, that would be welcome as well. I haven't really explored that much on this blog, but hope to do more in the future. Best regards, Burkely

Then there was Ms. Lenker, who wrote me that she is not working on her genealogical file anymore. She makes a good offer:

Thank you for contacting me. Unfortunately, I am not working on my genealogy file anymore. I posted my file and Ancestry put it on-line in their new format, unbeknownst to me, and too many people have made changes to it that are incorrect, including in my own family. However, I can send you what I have, about 259 pages of different Packard lines to use as you wish. Moses Packard was my 10th great grandfather. I have Zaccheus in my file and he was my 7th great grand uncle. I only have John's name connected to his family, but no info about him. I don't have William or Henry, or Barnabus !,!!!. Or Cyrus I don't have any Mills family either. I started this project about 30 years ago with Family Tree Maker 2004 which was a very good program. It has been changed too much to be the quality program it once was. I can't even create the reports that I once could in the new 2014 program. However, FTM 3005 still works on my computer, so I can send you the 200+ pages of info if you would like. I no longer post anything on the various website forums. But thanks for the invitation. Let me know if you want a copy of what I have. Barbara Lenker

After a short reply, I sent a longer reply, writing:

Barbara, Building upon what I sent in my last email, thank you for replying with this much depth. I received some information from a Packard descendant as well, but sadly his email bounced back the last time I tried to send him an email. That's fine that you don't have a William or Barnabas or Cyrus or even the Mills. Not everyone goes through the same line. And that's ok. I've heard of Family Tree Maker before. Thanks again for the offer. Even if you'd like to talk about how you conducted your research, over 30 years, using Family Tree Maker, that would be fine. I know the programs are different now, but its always nice to hear a story like that. I wish I'd know how my grandfather [Robert B. Mills], who wrote a family genealogy which he released as a Christmas present in 1979, The Packard/Mills Family History, did his research. I know some snippets from my mom that he gathered a lot of information, but that's about it. Thanks again for such a kind email. - Burkely

I also sent a number of other emails to the following individuals

A Packard descendant, listed in the 1997 newsletter of the Genealogical Society of Vermont

Cathi Clore Frost whom hosted an old genealogical website with a page about the Packard family.

A blog written by Margaret Odrowaz-Sypniewski, B.F.A., one page about the Packards generally and another about the Packard family line.

Sharon, a person who commented about the Packards on now-defunct rootsweb back in 2003.

Scott White, whom had a blog about the Packard family.

And that's it. So far, I have not received a response from any of the others listed above.

Note: This was originally posted on December 7, 2018 on the main Packed with Packards WordPress blog (it can also be found on the Wayback Machine here). My research is still ongoing, so some conclusions in this piece may change in the future.

© 2018-2022 Burkely Hermann. All rights reserved.

[cabinboy100]

STAR TREK: PICARD: Why does Tallinn look like Laris?

First, for reference…

Tallinn in 2024:

Laris in 2401:

So, why DOES Tallinn look like Laris?

I have some theories…

1. Because she becomes Laris later in life, after 2024. She is a Romulan who was raised and trained by the Guardian Angels as Gary Seven was. Remember that Gary was described by McCoy as having a "perfect body". The GAs build them to last, and their agents have enhanced strength, health, and longevity. She was originally meant to watch a Romulan, but due to the loss of two human Supervisors in the 1960s, she was reassigned from Romulan duty to Earthican. To blend in on pre-warp Earth, the GAs had her ears done. She will have several assignments after Renee Picard, and in the 24th century, Jean-Luc. For that post, her Romulan appearance will be restored and she will join the Tal Shiar as Laris. She is a Supervisor in both timelines.

1.a. In 2401 of the prime timeline Laris has memories of JL and friends from 2024, but is forbidden to share any information or records of those events.

1.b. The GAs routinely wipe (selectively?) the memories of their Supervisors between assignments. So, in 2401 of the prime timeline Laris has no memories of their experiences in 2024.

1.c. Once the timeline has been restored in 2024, Tallinn voluntarily undergoes a process that selectively blocks her memory of JL and friends' activities in 2024 and all information she’s learned about the future from them. The blocked memories can be restored by a unique trigger. It might be a specific date, an image, a code phrase, or some action. Dare I suggest—a kiss? =)

2. Because she is a Romulan ancestor of Laris. She is a Romulan who was raised and trained by the Guardian Angels as Gary Seven was. She was originally meant to watch a Romulan, but due to the loss of two human Supervisors in the 1960s, she was reassigned from Romulan duty to Earthican duty. To blend in on pre-warp Earth, the GAs had her ears done.

3. Because she is a human ancestor of Laris. She is a human who was raised and trained by the Guardian Angels as Gary Seven was. After her tour as Renee Picard's Supervisor, she partners with a Romulan Supervisor and the two have a child or children. One of these descendants is Laris, a Romulan-human Supervisor placed in the Tal Shiar in the 24th century.

We've seen how uncannily resemblance can be inherited from the mother by a Romulan-human child in Sela on STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION. In "Assignment: Earth", Gary Seven describes how the GAs train generations of human agents on their planet, implying some form of reproduction amongst them. The agents he's looking for are a man and a woman, whom I always imagined as a couple. That might have been their cover while on assignment, but it makes sense to me. Why wouldn't you send a couple as your secret agents? (Watch THE AMERICANS.)

4. Because she is a Romulan ancestor of Laris—and—Jean-Luc is a human ancestor! Scandal! Tallinn and JL have a little sexytime in 2024 that results in a child raised by Tallinn and the GAs, the start of a bloodline that leads to Laris. This is why JL finds himself instinctively holding back when it comes to a relationship with her.

5. Because JL and the gang are not experiencing an authentic dark timeline and time travel. Instead, they are living a WIZARD OF OZ scenario, where names, faces, and knowledge familiar to the La Sirena crew are being pulled from their minds to populate a virtual or supernatural world. Feel free to mix and match our heroes with Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Lion as you like. We've even got the powerless wizard and at least one witch.

It may seem like a reach, and to some perhaps a cop-out, but it would explain all the familiar faces and names we encounter, and to some degree, even the Easter eggy STAR TREK references. If the world of this story does turn out to be Oz-y, I believe that the show will make the experiences in that world matter to our crew in meaningful and rewarding ways.

My hope is that explanation 1/1.c is what plays out and Jean-Luc is writing wedding invitations in that teaser for season 3. =)

Whaddyathink? Crazy talk? Possibly. I love the what-if paths that this season is taking me down, tho.

Keep on keepin’ on~

P.S. This is being posted after S02E06 “Two of One”.

[robininthelabyrinth]

A prompt for a continuation of your "NMJ goes mad with losing his brother" fic? It needs more. Preferably including A) NHS waking up as a fierce corpse and B) Lan Zhan, at least, not dying.

part 1, part 2, part 3

Lan Wangji wrapped his fingers around Wei Wuxian’s shaking hands, white-knuckled and fearful and unable to release his grip on the Stygian Tiger Seal. He didn’t say anything, only stood there, but that was fine, that was enough.

He was alive, and that was enough.

How Wei Wuxian had felt when he’d arrived to see him staggering backwards, Bichen falling from numb fingers, red staining his white robes –

He didn’t want to think about that.

It was fine: they’d arrived in time, it seemed. 

Based on how everyone looked, and on the general state of the surrounding area, he’d guess that Lan Xichen had started fighting Nie Mingjue first, possibly after some conversation, and for a while they’d been evenly matched, but then Lan Wangji hadn’t been able to resist coming to his brother’s aid, the two Jades of Lan perfectly in tune with each other as they fought against a single opponent.

Working together and using their full efforts, they probably would have eventually been able to beat Nie Mingjue, even blackened and more fearsome than ever as he was now; but of course, once Lan Xichen accepted outside assistance, Nie Mingjue could as well.

It was a little terrifying to think that he retained his sense of fairness underneath it all, actually. That meant that whatever he’d done to the Jin sect, some part of him still felt it was just.

By the time Wei Wuxian had arrived with Nie Huaisang in tow, Nie Mingjue had already summoned the masterless sabers, which he’d brought with him in a qiankun pouch – just two of them, in addition to himself, and the balance of battle shifted entirely to his side.

The Nie sect was known for its offensive power, after all, and even the Twin Jades of Lan would have difficulty against their sabers.

Not would. Did.

Lan Wangji had fought against the two sabers himself, leaving Lan Xichen to fight Nie Mingjue unhindered, but the sabers had cut at him - he was fast, but they were faster, and his white robes were stained from a multitude of cuts to his arms, to his chest, to his hips and legs.

Little cuts, in large part, but it was only a matter of time before the little cuts slowed him down enough -

Before -

Wei Wuxian had seen Lan Wangji falling, had seen Bichen leaving his hand unwillingly, and his chest abruptly contracted in utter panic. 

He’d reacted immediately, acted on instinct, whistling to summon any fierce corpses in the area. 

Not that there were many, it being the Cloud Recesses, a place of purification – but in the end his instincts had only made things worse.

The masterless sabers were, it seemed, exactly as terrifying as Xue Yang had made them out to be: they were swollen with power, very nearly conscious, and enraged by the presence of evil. It was as if the mighty ancestors of the Nie clan had reawaken from their slumber to help their descendant wreak vengeance across the land. 

Or at least it would be, if those ancestors were made of steel, knowing neither fatigue nor pain, neither mercy nor pity, and continuously drawing power from the earth and sky even as their opponents’ energy drained away.  

They struck hard, chopping down again and again, an unstoppable force, inexorable, taking lives as a easily as a thresher reaped grain.

The low level fierce corpses Wei Wuxian had been able to summon didn’t stand a chance.

Desperate, he had reached for the Stygian Tiger Seal, unsure if he would be able to wield it before Nie Mingjue turned Baxia against him, not thinking of the consequences, thinking only that he had to stop this, he had to save Lan Zhan -

It would all have gone very bad if Nie Huaisang hadn’t intervened at that very moment, shouting, “Da-ge! Make them stop before they turn on me!”

Nie Mingjue had pulled back at once, a harsh gesture causing the masterless sabers to unwillingly retreat from battle and return to his side; Lan Wangji had in turn struggled off the ground to come to Wei Wuxian’s side, and now he was silently holding Wei Wuxian’s hands, letting Wei Wuxian feel his still-strong pulse, and Wei Wuxian could finally let go of the Stygian Tiger Seal.

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said, and meant it; he hadn’t been thinking straight. 

Using the Stygian Tiger Seal so close to the Cloud Recesses, near the graves of all those purified Lan sect ancestors, all those common people in the villages not far away, everyone accustomed to peace – it would have been a disaster.

“Thank you,” Lan Wangji echoed. “You came in time.”

The sincerity in his eyes made Wei Wuxian’s face feel oddly hot, so he coughed and looked over to where Lan Xichen was leaning against a tree, recovering. “Don’t worry about it. You were doing fine.”

“We were not,” Lan Xichen said simply. “Thank you for your timely assistance, Wei-gonzi. It would have gone badly, otherwise.”

Lots of dead people, in other words.

Lan Xichen looked over to where the Nies were standing: Nie Mingjue’s hands were on his brother’s shoulders, his unguarded back to them – it wasn’t an insult as to their abilities, merely indifference to his own fate. Nie Mingjue clearly cared very little about anything beyond having his brother back. Their heads were bowed together as they spoke, and Nie Huaisang’s expression was positively fierce as he hissed out something. 

Lan Xichen’s expression wavered for a moment, and then firmed with determination; he stood and walked over to them.

“Nie-gongzi,” he said politely. “I was hoping you could confirm something for me.”

Nie Huaisang looked at him, his expression utterly unfathomable for a moment; he seemed to be thinking of something. He moved away from his brother, Nie Mingjue turning to stand by his side but never removing his eyes from him, as though he feared Nie Huaisang would die again the second he blinked.

“Go ahead and ask,” Nie Huaisang said slowly. “And then – I have something to ask of you, I think.”

Lan Xichen looked almost as though he regretted Nie Huaisang’s easy agreement. Despite this, he asked, “Your death. If you remember it, can you tell me - who was responsible for it?”

“The Jin sect killed me,” Nie Huaisang said, and now Wei Wuxian was really paying attention: he’d been so busy conducting tests to make sure Nie Huaisang wasn’t about to come apart at the seams that he’d never actually asked for the details of what had killed him. “It was at the orders of Sect Leader Jin, but the execution of the order was at the hands of san-ge – sorry. Jin Guangyao.”

Lan Xichen closed his eyes, pained; it was as if he had been struck a harsh blow, knocking the breath out of him.  

Wei Wuxian sympathized: who hadn’t heard of how fond Lan Xichen was of his youngest sworn brother? Who didn’t know that Nie Mingjue had only agreed to swear brotherhood with Jin Guangyao at Lan Xichen’s instigation?

“In that case, I am sorry,” Lan Xichen said, his voice low. “You would not have gone to Lanling alone, if not for my invitation. It may have been at A-Yao’s – at Jin Guangyao’s suggestion, but I trusted him, and you believed in me, and he killed you. The price for my blind faith was too high.”

Wei Wuxian winced. He hadn’t realized that Lan Xichen was directly involved in Nie Huaisang’s death, though of course it made sense thinking about it – Nie Huaisang had gone to Lanling alone, without any retainers, and despite the ongoing, if unspoken, war for influence between the Nie sect and the Jin sect.

It really did seem as though he had been lured there specifically to die.

And it had been done using Lan Xichen’s word of honor –

Lan Xichen’s mind was clearly going along the same lines: he inhaled once more, the sound of it agony, and said quietly, “It seems your brother was right to seek vengeance against me.”

“That’s probably true,” Nie Huaisang said, and Lan Wangji’s fingers twitched – they’re still wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s, even though he’s already put away the Tiger Seal, and for some reason Wei Wuxian doesn’t feel inclined to let go. “I’m not going to let him kill you, though.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers relaxed.

“I’m feeling very sensitive about people getting killed recently,” Nie Huaisang said, and shrugged. “For obvious reasons.”

He patted his belt in an instinctive motion and frowned, clearly having looked for something and found it missing. Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure what until Nie Mingjue mutely reached into his own belt and produced a fan, which he passed over; Nie Huaisang automatically opened it and held it in front of his face, only belatedly realizing where it came from and turning to look at his brother with concern.

“How did you die?” Wei Wuxian asked, both out of curiosity and because he remembered the stories Nie Huaisang had told in the Cloud Recesses of how his brother always rolled his eyes at his habit of carrying a fan, how silly and childish he thought he was being – that Nie Mingjue carried one with him now, even though he hadn’t known Nie Huaisang would be coming, even though he hadn’t known Wei Wuxian would be able to succeed –

Wei Wuxian thought of Jiang Cheng, searching fruitlessly for him for months, and tried not to think about it any more.

He didn’t want to think about what he would have done, if he were in Nie Mingjue’s shoes. Whether he would have made the same choices: to murder hundreds, if not thousands of cultivators, simply for the unfulfilling catharsis of revenge for a brother lost.

He thought there was a good chance that he might.

“Oh, you know, being led into a trap and left to die slowly and painfully while begging for help from someone who didn’t care to do anything – it was all very bad, and I’d prefer not to think about it, really,” Nie Huaisang said, and in retrospect Wei Wuxian would prefer that he didn’t as well – Lan Xichen looked as though he wanted to throw up. “A better question, though, is why did I die?”

That got everyone’s attention, even Nie Mingjue, who frowned. “You died because he killed you,” he said, his voice low and rumbling.

Nie Huaisang waved his fan in the air, clearly more comfortable now that he had it. “Yes, that’s the straightforward answer. But why kill me? Why risk your anger – admittedly, he may not have realized the extent of your anger, but why risk it at all? I’m no harm to anyone.”

“That is a good question,” Wei Wuxian said, and it was, now that he had a moment to think about it. “It’s not profitable in and of itself, and we all know how the Jin sect favors – ah, favored profit. If I had to bet on it, I’d say you probably found something out that they didn’t want you to know, so they felt they had no choice but to kill you.”

Nie Huaisang nodded. “I think so, too. That’s why I need Sect Leader Lan’s help.”

“My help?” Lan Xichen asked. He sounded tired. “What do you need my help for?”

“They were planning on killing da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and they all winced at that. Even Lan Xichen, who looked as though he had become almost resigned to the betrayal, nodded, accepting it: if he would kill Nie Huaisang, who was harmless, then plotting to kill Nie Mingjue, even if he was sworn brothers with the man…this Jin Guangyao fellow truly really knew no limits. “They were going to use you to do that, too. Something about a song you’d been teaching san-ge? I don’t know how you’d kill someone through a song, though.”

Nie Mingjue huffed, and the slightest trace of a sneer appeared on his lips – it was probably the closest thing to an expression that he’d had in the entire time Wei Wuxian had seen since his brother’s death. It was depressingly a relief to see the traces of the more familiar anger on the man’s face.

There was a sudden movement: Lan Xichen had abruptly knelt down, his knees going soft in horror if his expression was any judge.

“Clarity,” he said numbly. He had already been injured to the point of pain, and now he suffered another blow, more potent than any saber strike: it was horrible to watch. “The Song of Clarity – I taught A-Yao how to play one of the Lan sect’s ancestral songs. It was meant to help calm da-ge’s qi, to reduce the likelihood of a qi deviation.”

“So that’s probably how they were going to do it,” Nie Huaisang said, tapping his fan against his cheek. “Da-ge’s qi is already unstable naturally; if in the guise of playing music to stabilize it, you played something that would instead throw it into turmoil –”

“The Songs of Turmoil,” Lan Wangji suddenly said. “Brother – in the Forbidden Library…”

“He wouldn’t have had access to that!”

“He rescued you during the war,” Nie Mingjue said, his expression gone flat again. “You were carrying your clan’s books with you at that time, were you not?”

Lan Xichen’s head bowed. “Yes,” he whispered. “I was.”

Besides, Wei Wuxian thought to himself, Jin Guangyao had made his name by being a spy in the Nightless City - if he could fool Wen Ruohan, who was paranoid and trusted no one, then finding things out in the Cloud Recesses, where he was given free rein by the sect leader who trusted him...it would have been too easy.

“That leads me to my next question, I suppose,” Nie Huaisang said. His expression was hidden behind his fan, but his eyes were narrow. “And I would ask that Sect Leader Lan not take any insult at my suggestion. But I have to wonder: how many times is it plausible for a man to be inadvertently used as a weapon, before…?”

Before he himself should itself be investigated.

“That’s an unfair question,” Wei Wuxian said, even though it kind of wasn’t. If someone had been involved in multiple murder plots against him or his family, he would be suspicious of them no matter how virtuous they appeared to be. Still, this was Lan Xichen. “If he trusted him, he trusted him. The same initial fault led to everything else; it wasn’t anything new.”

Lan Xichen choked out a laugh, his voice raw and gasping. “I thank you for your defense, Wei-gongzi, but Nie-gongzi is correct. How many times must I be used as a knife in another’s hand before I take responsibility for my own behavior? How many other times did he use me as a shield of virtue to hide behind? I’ve always believed that he had reasons for everything he did…”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Nie Mingjue said.

“It matters to me,” Lan Xichen said, and he looked up, devastation and determination in every line of his face.

“Brother…” Lan Wangji began, looking concerned.

“No, Wangji. This is necessary. Da-ge – no. Sect Leader Nie. I have wronged you, you and your clan, in more ways than one. I submit myself to your jurisdiction, to be tried and judged, and welcome whatever punishment is appropriate under the rules of your Sect.”

Lan Wangji’s hand was so tight around Wei Wuxian’s own that it hurt, but Wei Wuxian didn’t say anything about it. His heart was in his mouth, watching the Nie brothers: with such a submission, Nie Mingjue could take Lan Xichen’s life with Baxia this instant, and Lan Wangji would have no recourse.

Assuming recourse was even possible. Those sabers...

Nie Huaisang coughed, interrupting the tense mood.

“Okay, okay, you can come back to Qinghe with us,” he said, waving his hand as if it were nothing. “We’ll figure it out from there. No more immediate executions; I think we’ve had enough of those – da-ge, I can’t believe you brought out the sabers! What were you thinking?”

“I don’t think he was,” Wei Wuxian said, his shoulders relaxing; he turned to smile at the relieved Lan Wangji. There was still hope for something vaguely resembling a good ending, maybe. “At all. You two really are brothers, Nie-xiong.”

“Rude!” Nie Huaisang huffed, but he was grinning. “You have to come to Qinghe too, Wei-xiong; da-ge won’t feel comfortable if you aren’t around, at least at first…Lan-er-gongzi, why don’t you come as well? Since you’re having such difficulty letting go of Wei-gongzi’s hand –”

[s-creations]

Return the Flames - Chapter 9

All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The  Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if  angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was  told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No  possible loss of anything from an open flame.

A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.

It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.

Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.

_________________

Fandom: A Hat in Time       Rating: General Audience       Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves     Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).

If Dominic wasn’t absolutely sick with worry, he would be enjoying the view. 

He had been led away from the medical hut, the Elder leading the way out of the village and up a well worn path. One that was leading up into the surrounding rocky hills filled with vibrant jungle foliage. Allowing a good view of both the village, and the rest of the expansive jungle. The mountain could just barely be seen from the heavy fog. They traveled until they were surveying the entire village in the valley it was resting in.

“Why not take a seat, dear friend.” The Elder had claimed a seat on a rather smooth rock, his staff leaning nearby as he relaxed.

“...We’re rather far from your village.”

“I understand your worries. I can only assume with what you’ve seen and experienced on your journey that would put you on the defensive to any stranger. But I assure you, the Child of Pure Fire is more than safe here. As are you.”

“The...Child of Pure Fire?” Dominic’s eyes looked down at the Elder’s hand. Which was casually patting the area next to him. The penguin sighed and did as was silently asked of him.

“It is how we refer to all children who are directly tied to the Celestial Phoenix.” The Elder answered after Dominic settled down.

“So...you know who Amos is.”

“Very much so. With his unique physical characteristics, it was hard not to figure out.”

“I suppose so.”

“My village and those surrounding this mountain hold ancestors who learned and grew from the Celestial Phoenix’s fire. We know those children of the Phoenix.”

“So, wait, are you not a child of the flame thing as well?”

The Elder laughed softly. “Our ancestors may have been. But we have long since lost the flame that connects us directly to him.”

“It must be an interesting feeling to know you’re related, in someway, to such a being.”

“Well, how do you feel about it?”

Dominic raised a brow at that. “I’m...not sure I understand.”

“We have the belief that the Celestial Phoenix is connected to all living beings.”

“But I’m a Moon Penguin. You know...ice? I’m pretty sure I would know fairly quickly if I held a Phoenix flame.”

“I’m sorry child, I was not speaking in such a literal way. It’s more of the idea that the Phoenix gives that needed spark for life to begin. So, in some way, we are all connected to the celestial being. As he is needed for us to live.”

“I suppose that makes some sort of sense.” 

“Indeed.”

“Would those Fire Spirits in the Subcon Woods be direct descendants of this Phoenix?” Dominic asked, leaning forward with interest.

“I believe so,” the Elder nodded, “They do hold similar features as your companion.”

“Huh...I suppose they do.”

“Speaking of your companion. I am to assume you are here to reach the peak of Starlight Mountain.”

“Yes. The flame Amos carries has been burning hotter each day, more than what he can handle sometimes. He...He said there’s something here that will help him.”

“He is correct. But I would like to add, he doesn’t seem to have the uncontrollable flame that you seem so worried about.”

“To be fair to him, Amos is not awake at the moment.”

The Elder laughed. “While that is a fair point, even passed out the host of a flame can be harmful. Your Amos seems to be more in pain by whatever has been put into him than the flame itself.”

Dominic flushed, feeling his feathers puff out. “I- My Amos? I just… W-We’re just- We’re both directors, we share the same studio. Funny story about that. B-But we are not…”

“Oh, my apologies. I was merely assuming after watching you bring the Child to us, you two were together.”

“I mean, I’m just worried about my...my friend.”

“I was speaking more on behalf of your friend. Creatures of fire, when in peril, will attack. Even if unconscious. Unless they know they’re with someone they truly feel safe with.”

Dominic swears his face was burning hotter than anything Amos’ fire could do. “That can just be the reliance of a friend as well.”

“...I suppose you’re right.”

“Look, can you just answer something for me.”

“Of course.”

“This...whatever is at the peak that we’ve been trying to reach. It will help Amos, right?”

The Elder sighed softly. Which didn’t calm Dominic’s frazzled nerves. “In truth, it’s all dependent on your friend.”

“What...does that mean?”

“If your friend has a strong enough will, then he’ll continue to live.”

“I- but- no!” Dominic stood, “You can’t tell me that this entire trip was for nothing! This was supposed to help him. Heal him.”

“This is not something that can be controlled or changed by me or you. If you want him to live, you will need to put faith in your friend.”

“Put faith in a bird who only stopped doing dangerous, life-threatening stunts? Who, I’m sure, was only doing this as a way to possibly get himself ‘accidentally’ killed. Or, would you rather I put faith in the owl that has been drinking himself to death for who knows how long? Or how about the version of Amos that works so hard for so long that he will pass out for 10 hours straight? Which version do you want to put your faith into?”

The Elder didn’t reply, merely stared at the penguin’s shaking form. Dominic, on his part, was absolutely sick with fear. This was all supposed to be a journey to get Amos healed. That was the goal. Now, being told this was all reliant on the owl’s self-esteem, Dominic felt as if he’d already lost Amos.

“I...can’t lose him… Please tell me there is something I can do.”

“Perhaps you will be his beacon to remain.”

Dominic laughed weakly. “Me? I’ve been his rival for years. Sure, we didn’t kill each other on this trip. But he doesn’t need me. He...He has his family.”

“Yet you just listed off his dangerous activities. Wouldn’t he be happy if you assumed his family would be enough to keep him here.”

“I… Whatelse could I add to his life?”

“Everyone can offer their needed points in other’s lives.”

“I would not be the one he would need for that. At least, not the point to keep him happy. I have my own problems… I’m not meant to be ‘helpful’. I’m not built like that.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Dominic laughed bitterly. “Would you like to ask the number of beings who kept my bed warm until morning came? I’m a good distraction, not a relationship.”

“To build a relationship, it requires two or more to make it strong. It must also start with knowing you want to pursue something. Do you want that?”

“...I do.”

“With him?”

Did he? Did he really want to stay with someone who he’s carried a rivalry with for so long? The person he’s hurled insults to from across the studio floor? Someone who the penguin constantly tried to impress with his own showcase his own story telling skills. An internal battle to not back down and to hope this feud would end so they could create something together.

Dominic frowned as he crossed his arms, suddenly feeling small. “...I do. He has that spark that I haven’t seen in others. It's so admirable. He’s admirable. He’s honestly my drive to make such amazing things. I want to impress him. When we were younger, it was to show him I was better. Now...I really just want him to look at me…”

“That is something worth pursuing.”

They turned back to the village when a loud call was heard coming from the medical hut. A few healers fled from said place as the shouting continued.

“It seems as if your ‘friend’ is awake,” the Elder commented as he stood, “Shall we go check on him?”

“Yes, preferably before he hurts himself or anyone.”

Dominic rushed back down the hillside, slightly worried that the Elder felt the need to take his time hobbling after, and entered the hut. To find Amos standing on the bed he’d no doubt been resting on a few minutes before. The owl yelling furiously while holding a stool above his head like a weapon.

“And if someone doesn’t start talkin’, I’ll be whackin’ yer head off yer peck necks one by one!”

“Amos!” 

The owl was startled, attention going to the agitated penguin standing by the doorway. The stool was promptly dropped. Amos wobbly climbing off the bed and over to Dominic. “Yer okay…”

“What are you doing? Threatening these poor people who’ve been helping us. Why would you- whoa!” Dominic scrambled to collect Amos, who’s legs apparently stopped working. The penguin slowly lowering them to the floor. Amos desperately clinging to the other, his forehead resting on Dominic’s shoulder. 

“Whoa. Easy Sweetheart, just try and take it easy.”

“Yer okay…” Was Amos’ weakly muttered response. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. You were the one who was hit with a weird drug.”

“Yer okay…”

Dominic frowned, looking up to the remaining nomads who had inched out from the corner they’d been hiding in. “Is he okay?”

“Ah, Phoenix… Very dizzy.” Was the reply.

“Dizzy...from the drug?”

The nomad nodded before patting his chest. “Fire...blocked.”

“Blocked? Oh Amos… Let’s get you back to bed Sweetheart.” Dominic was thankful the owl was so light. Hollow bones were such a blessing in disguise at this moment. Amos started to panic again when he was placed back on the bed and Dominic pulled away. The penguin quickly corrected the action by taking Amos’ hands  “No, no, no, you’re alright. I’m right here, I won’t be leaving you.”

That seemed to calm Amos enough to allow him to relax, completely passed out in the next second. Dominic let out a weak sigh, giving a small thanks when a chair was passed to him, more or less collapsing into it. There was the familiar tapping sound drawing closer to the hut that announced the Elder’s arrival. A quiet conversation was held between him and the healer nomads before joining the penguin by the bed. 

“I’ve been informed that your friend had a bit of an episode when he woke.”

“They said his flame had been ‘blocked’.” Dominic voiced weakly, which the Elder merely nodded in agreement to. 

“Whatever was injected into him was able to extinguish it to a dangerous degree. Not enough to kill. But just enough to subdue. It’s his mortal side that is keeping him alive. I don’t know who has been hunting you. But they are knowledgeable and dangerous if they know how to take down a Phoenix.”

“He’ll be alright though, right?” The penguin desperately asked. 

“He woke up and threatened my people. I believe he will be just fine.”

“I-I am so sorry about that.”

The Elder laughed softly and waved his hand. “Please, do not worry yourself. He was not coordinated enough to harm anyone. Plus, with the situation he just left only to wake in a strange place, it was a reasonable reaction.”

Dominic let out another sigh, cradling his head in a hand. “Oh Amos…”

“I will tell you, he will be awake by tomorrow. Fairing much better than a few moments ago.”

“How far away are we from the mountain?”

“A day or two by walking. It would be best to make your entrance as quiet as possible. I will send word of your arrival. We have nomads living at the base who will be able to take you to the peak.”

“Right, yes, thank you.” Dominic flinched slightly when a hand was rested on his shoulder. 

“I will ask that you take tomorrow, all of tomorrow, to rest.” 

“W-We don’t have time.”

“Your friend is in no danger, his fire is contained. Give those terrible birds a bit of a slip. Get a chance to breathe. You both need a full day's rest after this.”

“I...don’t wish to impose.”

The Elder smiled. “I am making the offer. You have been welcomed here. We can have a feast even! A celebration of the Child’s return. Please, let yourself recover before facing the next great hurtle.” 

Dominic didn’t answer right away. He looked back up to Amos’ sleeping form. Reaching out to preen a few stray feathers before putting a hand back between both of his. Dominic smiled softly as Amos unconsciously squeezed back.

“Okay… Let’s have a feast.”

[rainbirdsky]

Sanctuary B(r)each

LONG POST - This is a chapter of my headcanon story in which a Krill attacks the Sanctuary Islands.

Characters: Rainbird, Reef, Candle, Carillon, Red/Kwan

Rainbird swept the broad edge of their paint-laden thumb in a small arch before switching to paint the manta’s tail with their pinky finger in the inner curve. This bean-shaped simplification of the manta was something they had learned from the wall-art of their ancestors before them, and over time they had worked out the best way to mimic each character with the least amount of strokes. Mantas weren’t the only animals they’d learned to finger-paint with light. Butterflies were a simple ‘x’ with a pinky finger, and birds were a slightly larger drooping ‘x’ with a horizontal line at the base attaching the two bottom points and forming the body. 

Rainbird sat back to admire their work. On the cave wall they had painted a vast mural of the Sanctuary and its inhabitants, including their friends Reef and Candle sitting on the beach and holding hands.

“That’s incredible, Rainbird.” Reef whispered appreciatively, resting her hand on the enby’s shoulder and admiring the mural. Candle looked up from where she sat mending an ancient tapestry and grinned. The trio were resting in a small cave in the Sanctuary Islands, or to Reef and Candle, ‘home.’

Many of the caves in Sanctuary hummed with sea breezes, however this little hollow stayed relatively still - enough so that the many candles lighting the room stayed lit at all times. Shelves had been carved into the walls and were decorated with seashells and coral and the floor of the cave was carpeted with tattered flags from the Wasteland or tapestries from the Valley of Triumph. Driftwood had been carved into simple furniture, pillows stuffed with dried grass and sweetly-scented flowers. With the addition of Rainbirds’ mural the cave had become even brighter, filled with the warm orange glow of candles and golden light.

“The paint reacts to flame.” Rainbird said, “That’s why hidden murals seem to come to life when you light a candle near them. The paint will fade a little in time, but with this many candles in here it shouldn’t go out.”

“So that’s how that works.” Candle mumbled as she stitched her tapestry, “I always chalked it up to magic.”

“It can be both.” Reef chuckled and moved to kiss Candle on the forehead, “Understanding the spell doesn’t make it less magical.”

From outside the cave came the ringing of many small bells, soon followed by several distressed voices crying out.

“KRILL! THERE’S A KRILL IN THE SANCTUARY!” came a scream from outside, and soon a chibi with a jester cap came running in, the many bells on their outfit chiming. Their eyes were wide as they looked to Reef. Rainbird knew this chibi was Carillon, a non-verbal child who played the (usually simple) role of guard in the Sanctuary. Their hands were a blur as they signed something only Reef could understand.

“Thank you Carillon,” the turtle-masked woman nodded, “Get as many into the jellyfish caves as possible.”

Candle was on her feet, pulling on her dark cloak and tall pointed hat and grabbing Carillon’s cape before they left. Rainbird sat frozen, looking to Reef for guidance.

“Are there any Krill-Riders in the Sanctuary?” Candle asked Carillon, to which the little jester shook their head ‘no’. Candle cursed softly and dismissed Carillon, the latter quickly rushing out into the tunnels with the ringing of their many silver bells.

“We will have to deal with this.” Reef said gently, pulling Rainbird to their feet.

Rainbird nodded and the trio made their way out of the caves.

The screams were so much louder outside, but they could see Carillon was herding the younger Sky Kids toward the jellyfish caves. The miniature mantas followed the Sky Kids as they fled, cooing softly and fluttering between them to try to keep the children calm as they headed to safety. The mid-sized mantas were scooping up Sky Kids and bringing them too, seemingly making a game of seeing how many kids each could collect.

Rainbird looked toward the Sanctuary entrance in the clouds to see the Dark Dragon twisting in the air like a massive black kite. Its eye was solid red, enraged and without a specific target. 

“It’s been enraged by something.” Rainbird looked past it at the many small islands clustered about the cloud gate.

“There’s someone up there.” Candle pointed toward the larger of the floating islands, “Near the Timid Bookworm spirit.”

Rainbird and Reef saw it too, a figure with a red cape stood looking down at the Sanctuary, ignoring the enraged beast that descended upon them.

“It’s the kid from the forest.” Rainbird frowned, “The one with the staff.”

“We can deal with them after we deal with the Krill.” Reef replied, “One thing at a time. Can we trap it in the caves?”

“No.” Candle shook her head, “We don’t know which caves the Sky Kids may be hiding in.”

There was a booming call as the giant manta above Sanctuary spotted the descending Dark Dragon.

“Will she be okay?” Rainbird asked, watching the manta fly at the Krill with more purpose than they had ever seen.

“For a while, but she’ll need help.” Candle muttered, “Look, I think we can wedge the Krill into the narrow passage through the top of the mountain. Sky Kids don’t go in there much and it’s unlikely any are hiding in there.”

“Reef,” Candle took her girlfriend’s hands, “I love you, but you aren’t the quickest flyer...”

“I’m aware. So what should I do?”

“Head up the crevasse. Make sure there’s no one in there, and when we have tired the Krill, get ready to draw it in. Even if you lose your wings you’ll be able to run through the mountain.”

Reef kissed Candle, nodded and started hiking up the mountain. 

“Have you ever rode a Krill, Rainbird?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Find the edges of the plates in the exoskeleton and dig your fingers in. They’re surprisingly squishy if you can get under their armour.”

Rainbird winced. That didn’t sound pleasant, “How long does it take to tire a Krill?”

“Depends on the type of Krill, but this is a smaller one which means it will be fast. Try to aim for a geyser if you fall to half your wings.. Any other questions?”

”No.”

The giant manta let out another booming call as it rammed the Krill, and the Krill clawed at it while making its eerie crackling.

Candle grabbed Rainbirds’ hand and crouched on one knee. One of the stars on the back of Candles’ cape sparked like fireworks and went out as a huge swirling gust centred on the jackal-masked woman rocketed the pair into the air with surprising speed. Rainbird almost got whiplash but quickly opened their wings and felt the zephyr hurtling them upward. At the top of the updraft Candle beat her wings, gaining considerable height and speed.

“Remember, get between the plates.” Candle shouted over the rushing wind and releasing Rainbirds’ hand. Candle beat her wings again to reorient and launching herself toward the Krill’s face and the screaming manta.

Rainbird dipped their left wing and swung left to approach the Krill from behind. Thanks to Candles’ launch they still had all their wing charges - if they fell they were going to need them.

Candle swept around and over the giant manta, coming down on the Krills’ head and dropping an elbow directly on the dark creatures’ eye. The Krill screamed and reared back, releasing the manta.

Avoiding the Krill’s tail as it flailed Rainbird landed lightly on the beasts’ back and started clambering up toward the bucking dragon’s head. They climbed slowly but surely, making sure they had a good grip with each hand before moving the other. The Krill’s armour was thickest on their back behind their head, but that was also where the gaps in their exoskeleton were large enough for Rainbird to squeeze their fingers between.

The Krill flapped its tail and started to turn, feeling something on its back. Candle flew around the beast’s head in a tight spiral to keep its attention. The giant manta flew alongside her close enough to recharge her wings and the jackal-masked girl laughed.

“You’re in trouble now, shrimpy!” she grinned, flying circles around the Krill as it tried to keep its eye on her. Candle flew directly at it head-on, dipped and came up beneath its head, bringing her knee up into its bottom jaw. She fell back into a backflip and disappeared beneath the Dark Dragon.

Rainbird reached the krill’s ‘neck’ and dug their fingers into the spongy skin between the chitinous plates while the Krill reeled from Candle’s attack. Rainbird sat astride the Dark Dragon as it bucked, but they clung on, gripping the beasts’ neck between their thighs.

The giant manta cooed and flew above Rainbird, lightly touching them in passing. Candle hung beneath the manta like a living hang-glider and dropped down onto the krill behind Rainbird.

“Good grip.” Candle remarked, sitting behind Rainbird.

“Thanks? So now what?”

“I am going to run over its face and fly toward the trap. Once it starts after me, I want you to open your umbrella over its eye and blind it.”

“How will it chase you blinded?”

“I will be just ahead of it, and I’ll give it a slap or something when it turns the wrong way.” Candle chuckled.

“But if you get hit-”

“I won’t.” Candle cut them off and took the umbrella from Rainbird’s back, threading it between the enby’s arms and their body, “Raise a knee to hold this tight, and make sure whatever hand you’re gonna hold on with has a damn good grip.”

That was the last instruction she gave before hopping up and skipping over the krill with apparent ease. Rainbird watched as Candle leapt from the Krill, kicking off their face like a springboard. She was laughing as the Krill lit her up in red.

Rainbird leaned down to press their body against the Krill and brought their umbrella up alongside its’ face. They waited for the Krill to freeze as it targeted Candle, and when it was still enough Rainbird brought up their other hand to quickly open the umbrella right over the Krill’s eye. Rainbird brought their hand back and dug their fingers in as their umbrella lit up scarlet.

Too slow to throw its rider the Krill bucked, lashing its head left and right to try and shake the blindfold. Candle laughed again and the Krill’s head turned to face the source of the sound right before she brought her knee up under its head once more. The Dark Dragon recovered quicker this time and locked onto the sound of Candle’s laughter.

Candle whirled and dipped, each time letting the Krill get within feet of her before beating her wings and skipping just out of reach. When it slowed she darted in to slap it, keeping its attention as she said she would but getting tired quickly. Soon she was panting too hard to laugh, and she dipped toward the trap.

Reef stood at the edge of the trap and steeled herself, watching Candle dart through the crevasse and out the other side. Reef could see the sheen of sweat on Candle’s skin and the darkened stars on her cape, showing she had no wings left.

She looked to the Krill, which had lost track of Candle when she’d fallen silent. Rainbird clung to its back and looked panicked as the Dark Dragon seemed to lose interest in its chase, turning its head as though trying to look back at Rainbird.

Reef forced a laugh, loud and confident and as close to Candles’ as she could muster. The Dark Dragon spun back, focusing on the laughter as though it was being mocked.

Reef laughed louder, backing into the mountain where her laughter echoed off the stone walls and the Krill charged with blind fury.

The dragon’s head easily fit into the crevasse, but its’ thicker neck and body did not and its exoskeleton scraped against stone with a whining screech. It had flung itself with far too much force to stop itself in time. It wedged itself into the mountain chasing the echoes of laughter, cracks forming in sections of its plating. It could still thrash its head and tail but it was perfectly pinched like a prawn clutched in chopsticks, suspended above the ground.

Rainbird’s hands were cramping with the sustained grip, but the body was much easier to hold onto now it was stuck. They stayed, keeping their umbrella over the Krill’s eye until they heard a gentle voice beside them.

“Are you okay?” Reef asked, resting a hand on Rainbirds’ shoulder. Candle stepped over Rainbird from behind them with one of her tapestries, which she wound around the Krill’s head beneath the unbrella and tied the new blindfold in place. The Krill bucked weakly, slowly starting to calm down.

“Let’s not do that again.” Rainbird coughed, prying their fingers loose and closing the umbrella now it was safe to do so. Their arms and thighs ached, “I am... quite tired suddenly.”

Reef caught Rainbird as they fell sideways and looped her arm under Rainbirds’. Candle took the other side and they lowered Rainbird to the ground. Rainbird lay on their back and looked up at the full length of the Dark Dragon suspended above them about twenty feet up, parallel to Rainbirds’ body. Reef sat beside them, lacing her fingers with Rainbirds’ and giving their hand a little squeeze.

“I will send for some Krill-Riders to come get this big guy.” Candle said as she wrapped a second tapestry around the krill’s head and wound a rope around it to keep it secure, “You guys can tell the Sky Kids to stop hiding, but tell them to steer clear of the mountain until the Krill-Riders come.”

“There’s something else.” Reef sighed, “We lost track of the kid in red, but it seems the Krill was a distraction.”

“Distraction for what?” Rainbird asked weakly. They were so tired.

“The whale is dead. I think the kid in red killed it. Its body is tumbling in the surf on the far side of the island.”

Rainbird had no words. They looked up at the Krill, their eyes hot with tears.

[randomnameless]

To that anon about sub and dub :

I’m sorry I accidently deleted your ask (:’( )

Short story long story, I prefer sub because FR dub isn’t up to par, i can only remember RD and cry (and in a way, for people who don’t use english as their maternal language, US!Dub is also some kind of sub?)

Also I feel like sub - which is a translation - allows you to understand the meaning by reading, but having a better understanding or feel about the characters hearing them. Like I know shonen protagonist with a gratting/childish voice is annoying, but when he suddenly becomes serious you know something big is going to happen or happened. Protag stopped being the carefree doofus. But if the dubbed version gives the protag a more serious voice since the beginning, you won’t be able to make him “more serious” to show shit hit the fan. Or it would have less impact.

I wanted to illustrate with FE16 since the datamine is now fully voiced but, hey, I noticed the script, even for small things like support or battle quotes, has been altered in the localisation so of course the dub feels different, they’re not talking about the same thing !

Like, lizard wise : 

When Flayn disappears, localised!Rhea’s goes :

I think of your...sister as family as well. You know that. 

Leigh!Rhea marks a very very small pause between “your” “sister” and “as”.

JP!Rhea?

あなたの大切な……妹は、私にとっても かけがえのない家族のようなもの……

which gives, with google translate some sort of : “your precious sister... is like an irreplaceable family to me too...”

Inoue!Rhea marks a defined pause between “precious” and “sister”.

From JP!Rhea, I get that she casts more shade on the “sister” bullshit but she’s also more emotional and calls Flayn irreplaceable. She shares his grief. Localised!Rhea added a “you know that” which wasn’t in the og script and I don’t feel like it’s supposed to add or translate something ? (but then i only use GT as my translator so...). 

When Seteth tells Cyril he’s totally not like Rhea’s family nope not at all :

Localised!Seteth goes :

But she and I are actually very old friends. In fact, we think of one another almost like family.

Whitten!Seteth doesn’t pause (save at the end of the sentence) at all and delivers in a straight... line.

Jp!Seteth script goes :

だが本来、レアと私は同志…… いや、家族のような間柄なのだよ

GT : But at the origin, Rhea and I are comrades ...... No, we're like family

There’s that gap marked with the “....” which isn’t present in the localised script.

Koyasu!Seteth adds another pause after the “no” (comma?) when Whitten!Seteth, who also has the comma, gets a much shorter pause.

I feel like Jp!Seteth delivered the usual bullshit he had to learn when someone would ask him why he is so close to Rhea, but then, he reconsidered while still being careful, marked by his pauses. 

He trusts Cyril with this info (not with the full beans though, they’re still “like” family). Interesting enough, maybe it’s only because this convo happens in their B support, but Seteth pulls the “comrades” card with Catherine, without revealing, like he does to Cyril, that they’re closer than that.

Localised!Seteth feels like he adds a precision to what he said earlier when Jp!Seteth’s like checking right and left and up and down to see if anyone isn’t spying on them to reveal what was obvious since the beginning.

Also useless tidbit, but the localised script went with “ I am, of course, Rhea's servant. So, in a more formal context, I must maintain a deferential distance “ to translate the jp “ かつての私は、レアに仕える者として 立場を弁えた言動を取る必要があった”  which, google translated, means “ In the past, I had to speak and act as a servant of Rhea” - suggesting that there used to be a period where he didn’t have to act or speak as a servant of his younger sister! 

It blows me away that this important (one day i will stop kidding myself) tidbit was erased!

Anyways, it’s not a case of difference between voice actors here because I can’t reproach to Whitten!Seteth to feel different from Koyasu!Seteth since they don’t even have the same script to begin with...

OTOH, Rhea remembering Willy in CF is more or less the same thing (per google translate, as always) in the localised or the og version :

Localised!Rhea goes :

He saved me. Supported me. Gave his all to the cause of defeating Nemesis.

That I should find myself here at Tailtean, striking down his scion... 

Even if it’s not marked with “...” like the above lines about Flayn, Leigh!Rhea makes a pause between “Supported me” and “Gave his all”.

Jp!Rhea goes :

私を助け、支えてくれました。 ネメシスの討滅に尽力してくれたのですよ。

その裔を、このタルティーンの野で 我が手にかけるとは……。

Translated with the bestest tool ever goes :

Helped and supported me. He was instrumental in eradicating Nemesis.

To get that seed in my hands in this Tarteen field ...

I’m sure a more accurate translation would be “scion” and not “seed” rhea isn’t recalling her kinky days during this battle

So it’s roughly the same stuff, there’s no hidden intel like Seteth’s backstory with Rhea or something. However, Inoue!Rhea marks a longer pause between “supported me” and “he was instrumental”. Inoue!Rhea catches her breath during that pause, something Leigh!Rhea doesn’t. 

When Leigh!Rhea delivers her “ That I should find myself here at Tailtean, striking down his scion” in a monotone voice (still a small pause after tailtean with the comma), Inoue!Rhea catches her breath again between uh, what was translated as “that seed” (again thanks to the comma), after the “tailtean plains” (no comma here!) and the rest ; at the end of the sentence her tone breaks.

IMO, with Leigh!Rhea’s performance you get that she remembers Wilhelm as Edel’s ancestor who helped her, but now she has to end Wilhelm’s descendant. It’s a sad twist of irony but I supposed she’d be “it’s regrettable, but oh well.” Leigh!Rhea’s sad but will live over this.

Inoue!Rhea remembers more fondly Wilhelm (longer pause?) and catches her breath several times, maybe to focus but it fails because her voice cracks at the end - Inoue!Rhea isn’t only sad or inconvenienced, she’s legit upset and shaken (maybe she’d apologise to wilhelm’s memory or the golem after the fight?).

I know the general meaning is the same “Rhea faces Edel and is saddened by having to kill her first friend’s descendant” but the tone is different. Even if the Google Translate Sub gave me random handjobs, comparing Inoue!Rhea’s tone to the dubbed Leigh!Rhea’s tone was worth it.

As one of my old uni teachers said, if you want to write about something, check the primary source. If you can’t, learn the language. And if you can’t learn, don’t write.

Google translate is a far cry, i know, from a professional translation, but I’m not writing an academic paper and I still have enough material to look at the secondary sources and spot the differences in interpretations.

[thebiasrekkers]

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 03: Dark Passions

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, smut

Additional Warnings: Oral (female receiving), heavy teasing, internal possession, body worship

Previous Chapters: Prologue 01 02

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 4,869

Tag List: @luxekook​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @stillcopingxx​, @taevkimchi​, @aroseforyoongi​, @vivpurple7​, @happilystrongthroughthedark​, @sw33tnight​, @nikkitane​, @mini-coop25​

AN: And we have the smuts finally. Woo. I did it early this time, guys. Again, I just want to let everyone know that this series is going to be updated slowly. Like, one chapter a week. So just be patient with me. I promise you that it will be worth the wait. If you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to drop me a line!

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary.” - Oscar Wilde

Kali sighed as she watched the moon slowly rise over the mountain peaks. The world was still and quiet, the occasional chirp of the cicada barely audible in the silence that blanketed over everything. Turning her head slightly, she smiled as she watched Yoongi sleep. It took a bit longer than she might have wanted, but with the aid of a sleeping draught, he finally relaxed and allowed her to tuck him into his bedroll. 

San slept faithfully at its master’s feet, his large head lifting when he heard Kali move to stand. The wolf started to get up, but she placed her hand out and shook her head. The wolf yawned and shook its upper body before settling back comfortably on the floor. She bent down to pet the wolf’s head between his ears and smiled when one of his ears flicked at the touch. 

Scooping up her satchel, she reached inside and pulled out several books. Setting them on a nearby shelf, Kali made sure the letter was nestled between the pages of the book on top. After ascertaining that the two of them were sound asleep, Kali pressed herself out of the humble mountain home and stepped out onto the cool night air. 

“I’m sure he will be seeking me out soon,” she murmured, gripping the strap of her satchel in one hand as she lifted her face toward the sky, “the tiger will bare his fangs if I do not answer his summons.”

With a wave of her hand, the space in front of Kali rippled. The trees, grass, and fireflies all blurred and tilted in motion. Finally, a dark hole appeared and she stepped through the portal. Once inside, a swirling galaxy of stars and light appeared around her. The large expanse of the void rippled with each step she took. Many voices careened at her body from every direction, causing her heartbeat to elevate with each second she was inside of that dimension. 

Another portal opened in front of her after walking several meters. Without blinking, Kali passed through the large black opening. When she reappeared, she was back in her own personal quarters in her home just outside of the Crown City. Sighing, she took a quick look over herself in her vanity’s mirror. Her satchel barely touched the ground just as a loud knock echoed from outside. 

Kali had no servants. She had no need for them. Despite a certain royal’s persistence, she refused to have any attendants that could possibly spy on her during her ritual prayers or when she crossed into The Veil. Joseon was still a skeptical nation and its people were quick to yell “heresy”, even without all the information. Being branded a foreign devil, the last thing Kali wanted was anyone being able to prove just how much power simmered beneath her fingertips. 

Adjusting the front of her robes, she retreated from her chambers and out to the main courtyard. Her estate was small in comparison to most noble households, but the King spared no expense when it came to her comfort. Her biggest budget crusher was her personal garden that was full of plants of different varieties to help with her potions. Kali took a moment to survey her plants, despite the heavy persistent knocking rattling the large wooden gate to her estate. She was in no hurry to answer since she already knew who was on the other side.

She managed to clip a few sprigs of tea leaves and some Nightshade before the erratic knocking began to grate on her nerves. Placing the items into the leather pouch that swung from her hip, she approached the gate and slid the large wooden bracer ff the panels. Shoving the wooden gate hard, it swung out loudly and knocked into the person on the other side hard enough for them to fall on their backside. He looked up, perplexed, as she scowled down at him, biting back an irritated snarl. 

“Persistence is only a virtue in some religions, Sir,” she said, her tone even, “patience is a virtue every child of man should learn to embrace.”

The young man scrambled to his feet, dusting off his clothing as he readjusted the hat on his head. “F-Forgive me, Lady Shuri!” He quickly bowed his head, apologies tumbling from his lips, before he reached to his side and pulled out the messenger cylinder hanging from his shoulders. He hurriedly untwisted the cap, pulling out the rolled up piece of paper inside. With his head bowed, he handed it to her. 

Unfurling it slowly, her eyes scanned over the elegant brush strokes that belonged to the Crown Prince. He was asking for, as she knew he would. Wishing for his fortune to be read was simply a ruse. It always was. What he longed for was something that she could happily give to him. As a subject of Joseon, even as a foreigner, it was her duty to give into his desires. It was the one thing she could do to help tampen the madness that was already starting to brew inside of him. 

She couldn’t deny him, even if she wanted to.

Folding the note away, she slipped it into the sleeve of her robe. “I will be there as His Highness wishes,” Kali replied, already moving back into her estate. 

“B-But, My Lady...His Highness, the Crown Prince, said that I should escort you personally.”

She glanced at the messenger over her shoulder, cutting her eyes at him. All he could do was stand frozen in terror before a dark smile spread over her full lips. “His Highness will receive me when I am ready to be received. He knows I have been traveling and need to change.” Kali began closing the gate. “I will see him soon.”

The messenger swallowed the lump in his throat, fearing more for his life than for the lack of her presence accompanying him on the way back to the palace. But if he was smart, he would relay her words exactly as she said them to the Crown Prince. He would know the meaning behind them and he would be patient for her. Otherwise there was no meaning or value to their relationship in the first place.

Pulling the pin from her hair, her dark tresses fell about her neck and shoulders as she entered her manor. It wouldn’t take her long to gather up the herbs and oils needed for a nice soak in the bath. As for her clothing choice, Kali knew she would have to pick something shimmery but tasteful. 

Even if her robes would not be on her person for very long.

It was late and he’d dismissed his servants for the evening. There were the standard guards posted outside of his palace entrance, but other than that, he was completely alone. The Crown Princess requested to see him, for him to spend the night at the Magnolia Pavilion, but Yoon refused. He would see his wife another night. But not tonight. 

Tonight was reserved for one person and one person only. 

Yoon paced inside of his personal chambers for what felt like hours. Every so often, he would reach up to bite his thumbnail both from impatience and aggravation. It would be a lie to say that his anger hadn’t flared when the messenger returned with Kalina’s words. As impertinent as he imagined her tone to be, he knew that what she spoke was the truth. Kalina was not a person of Joseon and, as such, not one of his people. 

She held a certain level of autonomy within the Joseon Royal Court because of her standing with the King. Whispers of him being bewitched by the foreign soothsayer spread throughout the different Noble Factions. But everyone also knew how faithful the King was to the Queen. He had two royal consorts, but the Queen always had his father’s favor above the others. The other two concubines were arranged marriages from two different court factions. Yoon’s own wife was a member of the Western Faction of Nobles.

As it stood, no one in the royal family could marry someone outside of their own country. Not like in the times of their ancestors, when Kings were warriors and legends were carved in stone; immortalizing them forever. Joseon was a strict nation; even more so after the Goryeon Empire crumbled to the ground. But if Yoon could have his way, he would pass an edict that allowed him to marry someone outside of their own nation state.

For his own selfish reasons, of course.

Flopping onto the silk cushion behind his desk, Yoon grunted. He was growing more and more impatient. How long was she planning to make him wait?

Just as he was preparing to mentally chastise her, energy warped in the far corner of his room. The Crown Prince stood, the steady beat of his heart escalating as the color palette in one part of his room began to shift. Saliva collected around the inside of his mouth as Yoon slowly stood from the floor. 

This wasn’t the first time.

This wasn’t the second time.

Kalina rarely came to him in this fashion, but when she did, it never got old.

He could watch her enter through that portal like a timeless dream until he ceased to exist.

The first thing he saw were her sleeves; a deep, rich purple spun from the finest silk and trimmed in silver. Her lithe fingers, modestly decorated with stone rings, reached into the space that occupied his chambers. The rest of her entered his room, her skin like chestnuts freshly plucked as her raven hair danced about her shoulders - just barely hidden beneath the softness of the robes she wore. She was barefoot, her toes peeking out from beneath the hems of her dress; the aroma of rose petals and lavender oils permeating his senses.

Sweat prickled along the back of his neck, her own neck bare save for a single jade pendant that hung from a thin black chain. She dipped her head slightly, looking up at him from beneath a hooded gaze. Kalina’s long lashes accentuated the forest green of her eyes, cheeks slightly tinted a soft pink from either the warmth or a flush at seeing him.

He didn’t care which it was. 

The portal closed behind her with a mere wave of her hand. The magic that existed there almost seemed to vanish, but he could sense the power that circulated through her blood. Her arms swept out to either side of her as she delicately lowered herself to the floor. Everything fluttered around her, the candle flames dancing at her mere presence. Her head was bowed, but he could still see the smile on her face; like she’d succeeded in trapping the greatest game the likes of which man had ever seen. 

Like any warrior, Kalina seemed to hold no such openings for Yoon to exploit. Yet she could pierce through every single one of his defenses. All it took was one simple phrase.

“Kalina Shuri is here, my Crown Prince,” she said, a bell-like lilt in her voice. Kalina lifted her face as he stared pointedly down at her. “...I am here, Lee Yoon.”

The trigger was always his name. His true name. 

No one was allowed to whisper it. Not even his own wife. His parents set that name aside when he was elevated to the rank of Crown Prince. Lee Yoon disappeared from within the palace walls. 

Only this exquisite creature before him, a being who seemingly had not aged since he was a child, dared to call him by name.

Yoon launched himself from the other side of the room, intent on laying his hands over every single inch of her. But just as he was less than a meter away, something stopped him. His body was rigid and no matter how hard he grunted, he was unable to break free. Wide eyes moved to look at Kalina, watching as the woman held her hand out at him - palm facing outward. There was a soft vibration in the air that sang over his skin, causing the hairs on the back of his arm to prickle. Sweat slid down the column of his neck, disappearing beneath his robes.

“Kalina,” he managed to choke out, feeling the veins starting to pop near his temple. Yoon’s eyes narrowed as she slowly rose from her seated position. “Release me at once.”

She was standing at her full height and was still a full head shorter than him. Yet in that body thundered supernatural power that only existed in myths and legends. That same power that was holding him bound in place, unable to take a single step toward her. Instead, she smirked, inching her way forward as the sleeves of her robe slid off just a bit to bare a shoulder to him. 

“Now, now, Seja Cheo-ha,” Kalina said, the bell tone replaced with something deep and velvety, “the night is still young and I have not seen you in weeks.” She leaned forward, pressing her nose into the curve of his jaw. Her scent filled his lungs instantly, breathing her in at the exact moment she breathed him in. “Let me have a look at you, hm?”

This was torture. Yoon should have her flogged, but the way she plucked him like a brand new harp was deliciously unfair.

“Release me now, Kalina,” Yoon half-snarled as he felt the tip of her tongue press against his throat, “you jest far too much.”

Her hand glided over his shoulder, teasing at the baby hairs near the back of his neck. Kalina lifted her face to peer into his eyes and had it not been for her spell, he would have lost his ability to stand completely. The sorceress pouted. “But you’re going to be leaving for a long journey soon, are you not?” He shouldn’t have been surprised, but the expression appeared anyway. “Is that not why you summoned me?”

Yoon frowned. She was going to make him beg. This was outlandish.

“Will you have me beg, woman?” The question showcased his ire, but this only caused her smile to widen.

“A lowly being such as myself would never request such a thing,” Kalina whispered, her hand gesturing over his body.

What spell held him was lifted. Upon his release, he grabbed her and harshly tackled her onto his plush bedroll. The sorceress released a soft giggle, failing to abate his anger. He hadn’t pinned her arms down and she took the initiative to reach up and pull at the small pin that held his hair in place. His white-blonde tresses fell around his shoulders like a soft curtain of wheat and he felt a ripple slip down his spine. 

Her fingers combed through his hair and for a while, neither of them spoke. Only the hushed sounds of their breaths existed between them. He lifted one hand up to press the pads of his fingers against the soft skin around her jaw. He let his thumb dip in between her lips and Yoon released a soft hiss when he felt her bite down around the digit. The loose-fitting robes suddenly felt too tight as his erection threatened to rub itself raw against the silk.

Removing his hand from her face, he slid it between the loose fabric nestled around her legs. He could feel her heat and his brows lofted when he realized how bare her attire actually was. Her flush-kissed cheeks grew a deeper shade of pink and he flashed her a predatory smirk. 

“Were you preparing yourself for me?”

Kalina huffed an impetuous laugh. “Isn’t it a servant’s duty to always know the needs of one’s master?”

He bit back a groan. Her words were like a spider’s web, trapping him further. The harder Yoon struggled, the more he was ensnared. 

Tearing at her clothes like a wild animal, every layer was peeled away to expose her sweat-tinged skin to him. He saw her lifting her hand, reaching out toward where the candles were, but he swiftly snatched at her wrist to stop her. She lifted a brow at him, aptly curious as to his intentions.

“No,” he whispered, bringing her hand up so he could press a soft kiss to the inside of her palm, “leave the light.” He grazed his teeth along the center of her hand, giving it a sharp nip. “I want to have a look at you.”

Leaning forward, he pressed his face along the valley of Kalina’s breasts; soft, pugnacious and full of warmth. He could feel the thrum of her heartbeat against his nose and he trailed his tongue between her breasts, a lascivious hunger threatening to burst from his entire body. Yoon’s hand fondled one mound and he used his other hand to pull at the ribbons keeping his robe cinched to his body. He ached for her. Yearned for her to release him from his demons.

Because only she could and she knew it.

His silk trousers fell easily off his waist and he kicked them from his legs in haste. Reaching behind him, he pulled his dark blue robes off his body and tossed them to the side; abandoned with Kalina’s own robes. He was hard and ready, his hands coated in her juices as he reached down to play with her folds. Decreed by the Heavens to rule, Yoon could only see himself worshiping this witch that lay bare in front of him.

Her fingers curled into the hair at the crown of his head, urging him forward as he pressed kisses along her stomach. He turned to press his teeth into the tender skin of her inner thigh and he smiled when he heard the gasp push from her throat. Inhaling deeply, he relished in her womanly scent before diving into her velvet heat to have his late night snack. 

Yoon swirled his tongue over her clit, the taste of her enough to get him intoxicated. The glistening moisture around her thigh made his mouth water. He wanted to draw as much sound from this woman as he could. He would never tire of this taste; this aroma. She smelled sweet and dangerous. A deadly draught.

She was a poison that he would happily drink, the promise of unparalleled ecstasy at the core of her being.

Her moans permeated the room, lost along the silk folding screens and the sheer curtains as her own sweat soaked into the silk bedroll. She quivered under his touch, his kiss, from everything he was doing to her and more. He pulled back from her folds, his lips shining with the leftovers of her essence and proof of the meal he’d indulged in. Kalina moved to kiss him, but Yoon stopped her with a gentle clasp of his fingers around her throat - bearing the brunt of his weight on his other arm that was braced just on the other side of her head. 

Yoon selfishly licked his lips, cleaning his mouth of every drop of her. He wouldn’t share. Not even with her and it was hers to begin with. He teased her folds with the tip of his erection as he felt her hips rise up to meet his own with a subtle push. His teeth snapped as he hissed, his dark eyes meeting her smoldering greens. He had her where he wanted her. Where he needed her. The level of restraint he was holding back made his arms tremble.

The look on her face, that look, was for no one else. Just him. The way her heart beat in her chest? It was for him. Kalina was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. The way the candlelight flickered across her body, cascading golden rays like the morning sun long her skin, was surreal. It was unfair. Why had the gods done this to him? Created a woman so blindingly beautiful with enough power to make any fearless man’s blood run cold? And he could not have her the way he wanted her; could not possess her the way he desired.

There were feral noises coming from Yoon as he leaned upward. Moving to his knees, he grasped Kalina’s hips and pulled her toward him. Her green eyes danced from the firelight and it nearly stole his breath away. 

“Yoon-ah,” she half-sobbed, causing Yoon’s erection to swell even more. He was going to shatter and be dust in the wind if she said his name that way again. All it would take was one more croon from her voice and he would be ruined.

Ruined as he’d been ruined time and again by the sorceress.

He could stand it no longer! Yoon held her hips in his hands as he lowered his body. “Not yet,” he murmured, his hooded gaze roving over her body, “wait for me, Kalina…” His own form trembled as he settled her over the head of his throbbing erection.

Yoon bit down on the lower swell of his lip, holding her steady as her legs seemed to open up even further for him. He was drunk off her scent, his vision growing hazy for only a split second before righting itself.

Rolling his hips, he couldn’t help the narcissistic smirk that painted over his features as her legs moved to knock into his sides in an almost vain attempt to wrap them around him. Her heat squeezed him in a multitude of ways and the pleasure that he coaxed out of her was intoxicating - her mewls of strained lust urging him onward with each moment he drove into her. The sorceress’ nails dug into his biceps, gliding up the sweat-soaked surface up to his shoulders before grasping onto the meat of the muscle there.

Tiny puffs of air lifted from her swollen lips - lips that he’d teased and pulled at with his fingers. She was getting close and so was Yoon. His tempo accelerated gradually, a low growl pushing from his throat as he watched her rutting her hips against the slickness of his shaft - their pelvic bones crashing into each other with unbridled need.

Her cry of desperation echoed throughout the room, filling the space both around and between them. This spurred him on, reaching the edge of his own need for release as he felt the stinging pain of her nails dragging along his skin. There would be marks but it was of no consequence to him. He would deal with them before he began his journey. There would be questions but no answers would be given. 

Heat spread through, filling her with everything until he was well and truly spent. The young woman beneath him had already succumbed to the pleasure she was given, her orgasm making her limbs grow weak.

Bucking his hips into her one more time, Yoon rode out the rest of his aftermath before slipping out of her with ease.

Rolling onto his side, he pulled Kalina with him so that she could nestle into the crook of his arm. For a while, all they did was share in heavy breathing as they attempted to recover. Yoon didn’t worry about falling asleep and someone finding them in that state in the morning. Kalina always left before the break of dawn, something that he mourned in the darkest corner of his heart. But decorum was standard in the Joseon Royal Court, something even he must adhere to.

He closed his eyes as her fingers traced over his brow, sweeping a few sweat-soaked locks from his cheek and tucking them behind his ear. Taking in another deep breath, he brought her just a bit closer to savor her warmth and scent.

“My poor, sad Prince,” she whispered, causing his eyes to snap open as he peered at her. Her expression looked solemn and Yoon wondered if Kalina was about to go to that far away place he could never reach. “So much pain. So much sorrow.” Her fingers, once again, combed through his hair. “So...unnecessary.”

Kalina’s words were cryptic. They always were. But they held a deeper meaning somehow.

“When you were a child, you were afraid, weren’t you?”

Yoon blinked, his lips parting slightly. “What nonsense do you speak, Kalina?”

Her eyes lingered on his for a handful of seconds before she pulled at his hair, pressing it between her fingers. “Your hair wasn’t always this fair. Once, it was darker than black.” It wasn’t a question. “Stories of unrest in the palace reached your ears. The struggles of your father in his youth before he was placed on the throne.” Her eyes lifted to look into his face. “Stories of bloodshed.”

An angry knot of pain began to form in Yoon’s chest. She didn’t need to finish this story. He knew it better than anyone. Being the oldest prince guaranteed that he was the next to obtain the crown. And while he had younger siblings, they were all princesses or far too young to even begin taking steps toward resting it away from him; his birthright. 

But the fear was still there, gnawing at the back of his mind. His fear led to impulsive decisions. One of them being the ingestion of poisons. Not just one type, but multiple types. All at once. At the age of nine, he nearly died. The physicians were beginning to think that there was no hope.

The Heavens, however, had other plans. They helped him to survive; overcoming his own crazed attempts at ending his life. The result? His hair transformed from jet black to platinum blonde. It happened over the course of one week. There was no explanation for it other than his own body’s form of retaliation to the death that attempted to claim him.

Yoon was officially installed as the Crown Prince the following year.

He was pulled from his thoughts as he felt Kalina’s fingers slowly moving from above his right brow and down below his eye. They stopped just at the halfway mark from his lips and mouth. Something crossed her features, a somber expression, and he could only look upon her with mild wonder.

“This face will be marred someday,” she whispered softly, “but that day will not be tomorrow or the day after.”

Yoon sputtered a small laugh. “Mine will, you say?” He let his hand rest at the curve of her hip. “I’ve trained my body and mind extensively, sorceress. Unless it is you, no one would be able to get close enough to harm me.”

Because she was the only person he ever lowered his defenses for.

“You are a powerful and cunning young tiger, it is true,” came her gentle reply, “but that does not mean that your tail cannot be grabbed.”

His eyes narrowed. He wanted to question her; to demand an answer and determine the reasoning behind her ominous words. It was a warning, clearly. But a warning of what?

Before he could ask, however, Kalina was already pulling herself from his embrace and retrieving her robes. He sat up slowly, grabbing his own robe and draping it over his shoulders. Shuffling to his desk, he retrieved the hairpin and waited for her to finish wrapping herself up. Just as she cinched the wide silk waistband around her midsection, he began to pull up her hair. Her head turned slightly but he used his hand to keep her head facing forward. 

“My Prince?”

“Shh,” he hushed, moving to gather up her thick waves in one hand, “let me do this for you.”

She hummed her assent, waiting for him to finish. It only took a handful of seconds to fully secure her hair in the pearl hairpin. Her hand moved to trace her fingers over the hair ornament and she glanced over her shoulder at him. 

“Is it beautiful?” she asked while smiling up at him.

“It pales in comparison to you, sorceress, but it will have to do.” 

Yoon cupped her chin in his hand, lifting her face up to meet his as he captured her lips in his own. They were dangerously close, but he held himself back. If he pursued any further, he would not let her leave.

He would cage her forever.

He watched her rise gracefully from the floor, the hem of her robes sweeping over the bamboo flooring. Every single curve of her form defied logic and as he watched her opening up the portal to leave, part of Yoon truly did want to capture her; to claim her as his and no one else’s. It was a selfish, hungry and dangerous desire, but it was there all the same. He could not ignore it. 

With a soft gaze, she smiled and dipped her head low. “Your journey will be free of perils and you will obtain success. Have no fear, my Crown Prince.”

And like a dream, she disappeared into the void, dousing the candle flames and leaving Yoon to ponder her words as everything plunged into darkness.

[roomofshitposts]

Thoughts & Opinions on episode 122?

episode 122 came into my house, took all of my bread, and desiccated my crops ,,, what the fuck, like 50 separate things happened and all of them reveal some new shitshow that’s been happening behind the scenes

i’m gonna go over some of the bigger points & my theories around them under the cut 

don appeared in the medieval times

okay so there’s two possible ways to see this event: don appeared in tori’s era before he was imprisoned by the shadows, or he manifested there somehow after he was trapped in the ROS.

-> if this happened before his imprisonment, then i think don had started travelling around time to help others with his abilities after attempting to save his family from the anomalies, and gradually grew more corrupt as he tested the limits of his powers, or started losing his mind as things he did in the past started having butterfly-effect style impacts on the future that he had to try and fix over and over. 

this could possibly mean that don started a paradox where he himself introduced anomalies to the world by meddling in the past, which amplified the number of anomalies in the present and ultimately looped back to giving him his abilities and killing his family in his original time, though it does still leave a blank as to what exactly started this real-world cycle of anomalies in the first place (who pulled that ‘thread in the fabric of time and space’ don mentioned? how does he even know what happened?). 

anyways, don’s interference grew to a point where it had become dangerous to the fabric of reality, so the shadows imprisoned him in a realm beyond time and space, the room of swords, to contain his abilities (perhaps reducing his ability to rewrite reality to be limited to changing one day’s events) or maybe punish him, with the knowledge that by trying to help others, he’d doomed them to becoming anomalies and being imprisoned themselves.

things that point to don being in tori’s era before he got yoinked to space jail: in the flashback where he tries to save his family, he has a mustache (bigger than his current one), and he could have grown that out into a beard as he travelled. he looks pretty damn evil in tori’s memory so maybe at this point he’s pretty much lost it, and he has a full beard, similar to how it looked when he was first shown in the room of swords during the season 1 finale, so maybe this is just about when the shadows took notice and imprisoned him. 

-> if this happened after his imprisonment, unlike the above where we can probably assume he started jumping around time soon after he tried to save his family (if he succeeded maybe he felt that he could help others too, if he failed maybe the guilt drove him to try and save others from the same fate), it’s harder to pinpoint when he might’ve manifested into tori’s time. 

if we go off of the theory that the ros exists in cycles, repeating its objective with the same (or new) voyagers each time, and the constants are don, the black box holder(gyrus) and the shadows, it’s likely that don somehow got out of the room of swords in an earlier cycle. he used his powers to manipulate reality in tori’s time, and this resulted in her gaining her own abilities as an anomaly, sending her to the room of swords.

maybe don was trapped in the ros for trying to rewrite reality to save his family and was imprisoned by the shadows. thinking this was unfair, he tried to escape, but failed. he then realized that maybe he couldn’t break out, but somehow (i can’t guess what method he managed to use ghfdsjfj), he could still affect the outside world. he started out by wanting to help people and protect them from the anomalies that happened in their era, but this resulted in the people he helped becoming anomalies and they would get trapped in the room of swords as well, both because of their abilities and to remind don to Stop Doing That. this eventually resulted with don slowly losing his mind and morals, hence why he began as such a warm, friendly person, but later showed himself to be so determined to escape the room of swords that he’s willing to kill nephthys and poison hinju.

things that point to don being in tori’s time after he got yoinked to space jail: his harmonica. in the episodes that show events taking place before the main timeline, and most notably in the flashback where don explains how his family died, he’s always shown using a guitar to channel his powers. he’s only started using the harmonica to try and kill nephthys, and only in recent episodes, in the present timeline. maybe the harmonica is an item he found that can channel less power than the guitar, which makes it weaker but much more discreet so that other ‘meta’ beings (shadows and maybe gyrus) don’t notice him slipping out of the ros or using it to switch boss swords with fakes, murder people, etc, and he keeps the harmonica secret and only uses it when he’s doing shady shit.

DON STOLE A FUCKING BABY???? HELLO????? WHAT THE GENUINE FUCK????

i’m going to elaborate on this point later but like what the absolute shit happened there

gyrus is possibly queen amelia’s son (or at least, her descendant)

so like. hi this entire plot point drove the discord nuts

first off, like,,,, gyrus is descended from (presumably) european royalty? i know that toon stated that gyrus was of korean descent and he’s shown to be able to speak in korean but i mean it’s also possible that the foreign king that queen amelia married, was from east asia, and their marriage was entirely out of necessity to lift the curse on her kingdom. the king dipped tf out after the ceremony to rule his own lands. 

don took the baby (assuming the baby is gyrus) to gyrus’ era, and this displacement amplified a chain of anomalies that began to deteriorate reality, leading to the world don describes as gyrus’ in episode 109 (’catastrophic anomalies are commonplace’ ‘whole worlds destroyed without warning’). in addition, don notes in the same episode that gyrus had ‘kind relatives that [took him] in and [gave him] a life of comfort’, which means that either his parents died on his home planet, or he’d never known his parents-- which would be the case if he was a baby don sTOLE FROM ANOTHER ERA.

alternatively, the baby isn’t gyrus, but rather they were gyrus’ ancestor, who don brought to a time before gyrus’ era. that displacement started creating disastrous anomalies. gyrus’ parents died on his home planet and his relatives took him in, as per don’s words. gyrus leaves home to become an astronaut and joins captain iro’s crew. bing bang boom

don’s bottle of shadow juice

what the hell even is this. people on the discord have theorized that this is the origin of gyrus’ inner shadow or his black box, but. how did don. get a shadow. in a bottle. as far as i know, he’s unable to influence shadows directly so he can’t sing ‘get in the bottle or else with this shoe i will throttle [you]’, but also the shadows are his jailors, why would a) don help them by giving them a host or b) the shadows help him by complying. do they both think they’re being slick and using the other gfhdjgfdhgh

and if it’s the black box, how did don bottle it. why didn’t he just take it. what is going on. 

either way this might be another paradox situation where don found out the origin of gyrus’ shadow abilities/black box/event horizon breaking point and realized he had to take part in getting events to line up so this could happen. so he essentially manipulated reality to ensure that he could get a powerful ally that would hold the black box and defend it from the shadows, and who would be the second constant to appear in the ros (and first voyager), so don could try again and again to gain his trust and get a pawn for his plan against the shadows.

trouble in paradise the black box

ok rip to black box gyrus i really liked him as a character and as a design and he was fun to shitpost about but there’s no goddamn way he’s going to survive this season. he’s been weakened from losing memories and control over the black box, and i’m pretty sure the shadow dragged him off to kill him. plus kodya being yanked back to the black box and the shadows of the people lost during the incident being released means that black box gyrus has either died or lost the command room/a significant amount of control.

and even if it wasn’t for the fact that the situation is pretty much spelling out black box gyrus is doomed, his plot relevance is also wearing out. it’s the same ‘pupil must outgrow their mentor so the mentor dies’ that happened with kodya but this time black box gyrus genuinely has no more purpose to serve after this arc. 

like,,, kodya has plot threads (like nephthys and his own backstory) that exist outside of gyrus. black box gyrus does not exist separately from gyrus. anything he can offer to his reset self, can be found in the black box’s memories once he’s done training him, and they’ve unlocked all the beacon memories. just about the last thing bb!gyrus needs to do is reconcile with kodya and relinquish the black box to gyrus, and then all his story points are technically over. that doesn’t mean i don’t want him to stick around, he’s a well-written character and i am bonkers for his stupid emo outfit, but i don’t know why toon would keep him around after setting up all of the shadow-taking-control-of-the-black-box business and bringing current gyrus to this point in the story.

SHADOW CIB I’M SHAKIGN AND CRUING

y’all i know this is irrelevant and i’m just going 👁👁 because it’s cib but it’s CIB and i’m hoping this means that she’ll become a more recurring background character, in shadow form or in flashbacks, since she seems to be really important to ragan and she’s the second voyager. and maybe there’ll be a way to save people from shadow death without gyrus losing all his limbs. god i hope

[lisatelramor]

Ohaka Mairi

 First of the fic to celebrate 10 years of fandom, this on a Tiger & Bunny fic for @vulcansdarkest <3 I know you didn’t say WHAT for T&B, but hope you like this ^_^;; Also, who else is excited about the news of a 2nd T&B season???

***

Getting a call at seven in the morning on his day off was not a pleasant start to Barnaby’s day. The fact that it was from Kotetsu both made it better and worse. Better because Barnaby did enjoy hearing from him, but worse because if Tiger was up at seven on his day off, it usually meant something was up. “Yes?” Barnaby said, not bothering to hide that he’s a bit annoyed to be woken up on the one day he allows himself to sleep in.

“Bunny!” Kotetsu said, too cheerful by far. “Are you free today?”

Was that a trick question? Kotetsu knew it was Barnaby’s day off. He also knew that usually Barnaby spent half of the day doing a bit of housework and light reading, and the other half either socializing or getting out of the apartment in some way, shape or form. “I don’t have any time sensitive plans,” he said finally. “Why?”

“Great! Can you come over? I meant to ask you earlier this week, but you know, with work and—”

Barnaby tuned him out as Kotetsu went rambling on with excuses. Which meant Kotetsu was nervous about something and had been putting off asking, probably. Barnaby scrubbed at his eyes. “Fine,” he said, cutting off a babble about the importance of… picking the right breakfast food? He had no idea how that was relevant to anything. “When do you want me to be there?”

“Does ten work?” Kotetsu asked.

If Barnaby got up now instead of sleeping more, he could have a leisurely breakfast, clean his dishes, do a bit of exercise and read a chapter of his current novel before going to see Kotetsu. Or he could sleep another hour and be rushed through that list. “I’ll see you at ten,” he said and hung up. If he didn’t hang up Kotetsu could babble on for another half an hour. And Barnaby would let him because it was both somewhat irritating and something he found cute. He had a hard time refusing Kotetsu anything these days.

He realized a moment later that Kotetsu never explained what he wanted Barnaby to come over for, but that was Kotetsu. Barnaby stretched. Well, he was awake now, so leisurely morning it was.

o*O*o

Barnaby had a key to Kotetsu’s apartment, not that he used it often. More often than not, Kotetsu was waiting for him at the door by the time he came over, or they spent time in Barnaby’s apartment instead. No one was waiting for him this time so Barnaby let himself in.

There was music playing, the oldies that Kotetsu liked, and Barnaby could hear Kotetsu talking in a low, distracted sounding voice before he even reached the living room.

“Hello,” he called. “You said ten, and it’s ten, old man.”

Kotetsu’s voice paused and Barnaby had a split second to brace himself as he rounded the corner before a teenage girl latched onto him.

“Barnaby!” Kotetsu’s daughter cried happily. “You’re here!”

“Kaede.” Barnaby awkwardly hugged her back, looking past her to a very sheepish looking Kotetsu. “I didn’t know you were here today.”

“I spent the night,” Kaede said. “Dad and I always try to spend today together when we can.”

Barnaby tried to remember if there was anything special about today’s date and drew a blank. It wasn’t Kotetsu’s birthday and it wasn’t Kaede’s birthday either. It wasn’t a holiday. He couldn’t remember if Kotetsu had done anything around this date last year either. “Oh?” he said finally, pinning Kotetsu with a look that demanded an explanation.

“It’s Tomoe’s birthday,” Kotetsu said, fiddling with his wedding ring, and oh. Barnaby felt a stab of empathy alongside confusion. “Kaede and I usually visit her grave.”

“We bring flowers and a picnic with foods she liked,” Kaede said with a bittersweet smile, “and tell her how our lives are going.”

“That sounds like a great way to remember her,” Barnaby said, knowing how much they both still cared even so many years later, “but why am I here?”

Kotetsu avoided Barnaby’s eyes. “Well. You see.”

“Because you’re family,” Kaede said over her father, throwing him an annoyed look. “It’s about time you meet her. Someone was supposed to talk to you about it ages ago.”

Kotetsu laughed weakly. Barnaby was frozen by Kaede’s explanation. Family. “I know it probably seems like a weird request,” Kotetsu said, “but Kaede’s right. You’re part of the family. I almost asked you along last year but…”

“He chickened out, Kaede said, looking unimpressed by her father’s embarrassment.

“Right,” Kotetsu said. “You’ll come though, right? I’ve told Tomoe all about you so it only feels right to bring you.”

He looked so hopeful and vulnerable that Barnaby knew he’d never be able to say no even if the idea of visiting a stranger’s grave made him feel a bit uncomfortable and like he’d be invading their tradition. When Kaede turned that same hopeful look in his direction, any protest he could have formed crumbled like wet chalk. “I’ll come,” he said.

Kaede immediately brightened with a little cheer and Kotetsu smiled so soft and grateful that Barnaby felt almost guilty because he definitely didn’t deserve that sort of expression directed at him. At the same time he hoarded every moment Kotetsu looked at him like he was important. It was the last thing he should be feeling considering they would be visiting Kotetsu’s wife’s grave. The wife he still very much loved.

“Thank you, Bunny,” Kotetsu said.

Barnaby cleared his throat and couldn’t meet his eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help or…?”

“We made all the food this morning!” Kaede said holding up a bento-style box. “Dad has the tools and incense, and we just need to get flowers!”

“Tools?” Barnaby asked.

Kotetsu picked up a bucket, scoop, and a small broom and rake set. “To clean the grave,” he said. Barnaby, who had never had a need to clean his parents’ graves, blinked. “You’ll see,” Kotetsu said.

“You can carry lunch,” Kaede said, pushing the box into Barnaby’s hands. “I’m going to choose the flowers.”

Barnaby resigned himself to following whatever orders she gave him; he didn’t really know what to expect with any of this.

Kotetsu elbowed him gently. “It’s nothing intimidating,” he said reassuringly. “It’s mostly just a picnic.”

“In a graveyard.”

“Yeah, but where else is best to talk to people you love who moved on?”

Barnaby thought that if he was going to talk to the deceased then it honestly wouldn’t matter where he was doing it from, but if it was what helped Kotetsu, then it was as good a place as any.

“C’mon,” Kaede said heading for the door. “It’s a train ride to get there and I want to get the best flowers before someone else does!”

“You heard her, Bunny, let’s go!”

Barnaby shook his head fondly and followed after them.

o*O*o

Barnaby had been to Kotetsu’s hometown once, and he’d spent the whole trip feeling mildly overwhelmed as Kotetsu’s family welcomed him with open arms. It wasn’t really a surprise that Kotetsu’s wife’s grave was in that same town instead of the city.

“Graves are a family thing,” Kotetsu explained after his brother had dropped them off at the cemetery in his old work truck. He picked his way through rows of headstones that looked less like the graves Barnaby was used to and more like compact stone shrines with pebbled walkways between the rows instead of grassy hills and planted flower bushes. “Every family has one, and your ancestors are buried there, and probably your descendants will be too, though this cemetery isn’t too old, so… Not quite the spanning family shrine some of the real old ones are.”

“How far back is yours?” Barnaby asked, hoping that wasn’t too morbid of a question to ask.

“Eh, only to my great-grandfather. And not all my relatives got buried here. There was a fight in my Gramps’ generation and half the family moved north and never talked to anyone around here again, and if people marry out, then they’re considered part of that family and…” He waved a hand. “It’s complicated. My dad’s buried here though, and a few other relatives.”

“I see.”

“Hurry up!” Kaede called already far ahead in the rows of graves. “You’re so slow.”

“It’s not a race!” Kotetsu called back. “She’s only carrying the flowers,” he muttered, readjusting the bucket of water and garden tools in his hands.

“Want me to take the tools?” Barnaby offered. He only had the food in hand after all.

“I’m fine, I can do this much,” Kotetsu grumbled.

“Suit yourself.”

Kaede came to a stop up ahead, impatiently shifting as they walked closer. The grave was no different from the ones around it that Barnaby could tell, carefully inscribed with Japanese script and a walkway up to it with stone containers for flowers and incense at the base of the grave. It was better cared for than some of the ones they’d passed, but there were still a few scattered leaves and some grass poking up between the stones.

“Not too bad,” Kotetsu said, looking the grave over. “Kaede, why don’t you and Bunny take care of the weeds while I wash the grave?”

“Got it!” Kaede set down her flowers and grabbed Barnaby’s hand. He barely set down the food before she was dragging him over to the garden tools and claiming the tiny rake for herself. “You can sweep up,” she said hold the hand broom out. Barnaby took it and she ran over to start picking grass out between stones.

Kotetsu saw him looking lost and pulled him over. “If she has you sweeping, maybe dust things off before I wash?”

“Right.” That at least was simple enough and he swept away the leaves and dust on the main part of the grave before moving on to the places Kaede finished pulling weeds from to sweep that dirt and bits of dried grass away. Behind him, Kotetsu poured water over the grave and emptied the incense and flower containers of anything that remained in them.

The cleaning didn’t take long, but it was surprisingly companionable, Kotetsu humming something softly and Kaede directing her attention to the task with all the ferocity a twelve year old could manage. Barnaby helped get the last of the grass and they stood back to look at a very clean grave.

Kaede pulled out the flowers—tiger lilies and sunflowers, because Tomoe had liked them, Kotetsu had explained—and arranged them in one of the containers. Kotetsu set incense in the other, lighting it. A sweet, spice-scented smoke rose into the air.

“This is…” Kotetsu pursed his lips. “Usually we take a moment to say something privately, and then go on with things out loud.”

“I won’t interrupt,” Barnaby said feeling out of place.

“Well that’s no good,” Kaede said, “you should say something too.” She tugged Barnaby forward until they were all kneeling in front of the grave.

Barnaby didn’t know what to do, but Kaede bowed her head and made a face like she was trying to telepathically project her thoughts beyond the grave. Kotetsu didn’t quite bow his head or close his eyes, but he went very still, focused inward. They both had private thoughts to say, Kaede to the mother she probably barely remembered and Kotetsu to the woman he had loved.

He watched the smoke rise in lazy coils and wondered what he could say to this woman that meant so much to people he cared about. This woman whose presence lingered even so many years later in Kotetsu and Kaede’s lives.

Would she have approved of Barnaby if she was still alive? Of his closeness to Kotetsu or…? But would he and Kotetsu have gotten as close as they were if she had been alive? It’s a strange feeling, acknowledging how loss had shaped them both. Those holes never quite filled in and left a network of scars that seem to never end. But for all that they were lost, they had been loved. Tomoe was loved still, and no matter the occasional thought wishing Kotetsu wouldn’t hurt over her anymore, he’d never begrudge Kotetsu for caring. He just hoped that if there was a spirit out there watching, she didn’t mind too much that Barnaby had fit in to the broken places in her loved ones’ lives.

Kotetsu shifted, the serious look in his eyes fading to a nostalgic smile. He patted Barnaby’s knee. “This is Barnaby,” he said out loud. “Bunny. I should have brought him here sooner. He’s my partner and I care about him a lot, so expect to see him again in the future.” Kotetsu wanted him to come back and do this again? “He’s looked after me a lot the last few years, and I’d like to think I look after him some too.”

“You do,” Barnaby said, because it was true. They watched each other’s backs. Kotetsu helped give him purpose. Made him a better person. And he helped keep Kotetsu grounded and focused. He liked to think he made Kotetsu smile.

As if on cue, Kotetsu gave him one of the bright, soft smiles that made Barnaby want to fall into his orbit and never leave.

“He’s a pretty cool hero too,” Kaede piped up. “Cooler than Dad.”

“Ouch,” Kotetsu said with an overdramatic hand to his heart. He said something else, so quiet Barnaby only caught something about a promise, before he said louder, “I’m still doing my best, and Bunny helps make that possible. I hope you can welcome him into the family.”

“Of course she does,” Kaede said. “She cares about us being happy and Barnaby is part of that.”

Kotetsu laughed, lifting his hand from Barnaby’s knee to muss Kaede’s hair affectionately. Kaede squawked. “And look at Kaede, she’s almost a teenager! She was so little just a little while ago!”

“Dad, stop being embarrassing!” Kaede complained.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Barnaby teased.

“Betrayal,” Kotetsu said, leaning back like he took a blow. “And to think that I thought you both loved me.”

“Stop being a goof and let’s eat,” Kaede said.

“Right, right,” Kotetsu said with a sigh. He stood up and offered Barnaby a hand.

o*O*o

Kotetsu had actually cooked something that wasn’t fried rice (though there was a small portion of fried rice in the bento). Kaede, noticing him looking in surprise at the variety of foods, said, “Don’t worry, I helped. Nothing’s going to poison you.”

“I can cook just fine,” Kotetsu said, passing plates around. A single small plate went on the grave. Barnaby observed this and guessed that there’d be some kind of food offering and that the shared meal was literal in some sense.

“And yet all I ever see you make is fried rice,” Barnaby said.

“Oi. I made you fried chicken that one time.”

“Mm, yes. One time.” Barnaby smiled as Kotetsu pouted.

“You can barely cook.”

Barnaby shrugged. “You liked the pasta I made you just fine.”

Kotetsu opened his mouth, closed it, and pouted more. Kaede openly laughed at him.

“You see what I deal with?” Kotetsu said toward the gravestone, and oh that was a bit odd, but at the same time… nice. Like there actually was a conversation going on. “Bunny likes to tease me.”

“You make it so easy to do so.”

“You know what? You’re eating some of the seaweed salad,” Kotetsu said to Barnaby even though he knew Barnaby didn’t like it.

Barnaby wrinkled his nose but took it with good grace. “So all the food you included were your wife’s favorites?”

“Yeah,” Kotetsu said. He plucked items from the bento with a pair of chopsticks with ease, putting a little bit of each on all of the plates. Enough that everyone had one of everything, including the grave offering. “Neither of us was huge on cooking, but we both had a few things we made and we’d make them over and over.” He grinned at the memory. “I thought for sure we would get sick of some of them, but you know what? Crappy store bought pasta sauce on cheap noodles is still a comfort food. It’s funny though. When Tomoe got pregnant with Kaede she decided she was going to figure out how to cook for real.” Kotetsu placed a piece of chicken on Kaede’s plate. “She tried a new recipe every week. Almost burnt down the kitchen once. I’d come home and she’d drag me to the kitchen to either try whatever she came up with or help cut things up while she kept things from burning.”

“And you still didn’t figure out how to cook much,” Kaede said.

“Hey, I got better back then too! You don’t remember but on my days off I’d make you pancakes with silly shapes for breakfast and cook dinners so Tomoe had a break.” Kotetsu looked down at his plate, lost in the past. “All the recipes she liked she wrote down and kept in the cupboard… So these are the same recipes,” he finished, focusing on Barnaby.

“It’s kind of cool that I can sort of taste what Mom’s cooking would be like,” Kaede said. “Though I don’t know if either of us made it right.”

“No, it’s pretty close.” Kotetsu took a bite of some seasoned vegetables. “Pretty close.”

Barnaby ate slowly as Kotetsu and Kaede shared a few stories back and forth—things Kotetsu did with Tomoe or that Kotetsu’s mother had told Kaede about over the years.

“We went to high school together you see,” Kotetsu said to Barnaby, and Barnaby vaguely remembered it being mentioned before years ago, though Kotetsu rarely spoke about Tomoe much at all. “And I already knew Antonio, though we didn’t get along. Did I tell you about the kidnapping thing?” he asked Kaede.

“I’ve heard that story a million times,” Kaede said.

Kotetsu looks at Barnaby.

“…I feel like Antonio told it to me once, but we were drunk at the time.”

Kotetsu grinned. “So. Mind you everyone involved were idiot teenagers…”

Barnaby remembered more details as Kotetsu went into a story about gangs and kidnappings and how he ended up friends with Antonio and dating Tomoe and how she’d given him the courage to go into heroism.

“I knew I wanted to see more of the world than my hometown,” Kotetsu said, “but until then I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do. There are some things I regret but… I’ll never regret becoming a hero.”

“I for one am glad you did,” Barnaby said.

Kotetsu sent him a wide grin, and then conversation moved toward more talking about where their lives had changed since the last time they visited the grave, Kotetsu roping him in to talk about some of the more interesting arrests they’d pulled off and the charity work Barnaby continued to do.

As time went on, Barnaby found himself talking unprompted, bringing up daily life with Kotetsu and other heroes and the silly little things that meant so much because they were mundane. Like mornings on days Kotetsu stayed over, sharing coffee as they watched the news, or everyone hanging around the exercise equipment to train and tease and gossip to their hearts’ content. For so long life hadn’t been enjoyable. Barnaby hadn’t had close friends. But now he had mornings without nightmares the night before. He had friends who joked and teased and were there when he needed them. He felt fulfilled where before he felt driven by something close to desperation.

Now Barnaby had moments like this. Belonging because someone cared enough to make space to let him stay.

The food ran out and the stories tapered off. Kotetsu wrapped up the plate that the offerings were on—“It’s not sanitary or good for the wildlife to leave it, Bunny”—and Kaede lit one more stick of incense as she prayed again.

There was nothing for Barnaby to do, but he didn’t feel awkward anymore. In fact…

He knelt next to Kaede, this time trying to think of something to actually say to the woman Kotetsu had loved, still loved and probably always would. That love didn’t mean he didn’t have room in his heart for others.

Thank you, he thought. I don’t know where I’d be if he hadn’t been a hero. If Kotetsu never became Wild Tiger… If he’d retired after his wife’s death… If he’d walked away instead of agreeing to be Barnaby’s partner… Barnaby probably wouldn’t be here right now, or at the very least he wouldn’t be nearly so happy. I’ll try to keep supporting him. To be happy with him as a partner.

He took a breath and let it out slowly. I love him and I hope that’s okay.

Barnaby still hadn’t said it to Kotetsu yet, but he would, someday. He’d like to be partners in all senses of the word. He was pretty sure that they were halfway there already even if nothing had been said. Sometimes Kotetsu looked at Barnaby with the same soft expression he used when he talked about Tomoe and it gave Barnaby hope.

Barnaby would never be a replacement, and he would never want to be.

After a day like today though, he could picture that future, of being adopted into Kotetsu’s family truly. He wanted that.

I’ll be back, he promised the ghost of a woman he would never meet.

When Barnaby looked up, Kotetsu was smiling, holding out a hand.

Barnaby took it and didn’t let go.

o*O*o

“Next year,” Kotetsu said after they dropped Kaede off with his mother, “would you like to help cook with Kaede and me?” Kotetsu’s hands flailed a bit, garden tools rattling in their plastic bag. “If you want to come back again, that is! You don’t have to if it was too weird. I know you probably have different traditions for remembrance and—”

“Yes,” Barnaby said.

“Yes?” Kotetsu echoed, shocked. “Really?”

“It was… surprisingly fun considering we spent several hours in a graveyard.” He wet his lips. “And it means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

Kotetsu gave him that soft look again. “Yeah. It really does.”

“Then I’ll be there.” Barnaby smiled back.

“There’s a festival in August, Obon, that’s a bit like a carnival and a bit where you go clean your ancestor’s grave and remember them. A little like Dia de los Muertos from what Antonio’s told me of his family. It would be all my family, but would you be willing…?”

“Of course.”

“Good because you’re family.” Kotetsu snorted. “I mean I’m pretty sure my mom adopted you back there.”

Barnaby laughed.

Kotetsu pulled him into a hug—a proper hug not just his usual arm over the shoulder. “Thanks. Really.” And Barnaby could swear he felt Kotetsu’s lips graze his cheek as he pulled back, but he wasn’t sure.

The light blush on Kotetsu’s cheeks said he hadn’t imagined it though.

Soon, Barnaby thought, letting their shoulders and hands brush together as they waited for the train home. Soon he would put the feelings in his chest to words. And by the point he did, he knew Kotetsu would meet him halfway like he did time and again in their partnership.

[everlastingscul]

“..ɪ...ɪ’ᴍ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴏʀʀy, ʟʜᴀʀᴇᴢᴇɴ. Yᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ, yᴏᴜ... yᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ.”

“No... I needed to be there. In the Aether realm. It was my price... for denying fate.”

“Wh...? Tenbrien, what does-?”

His hands tighten around themselves. He wore gloves for the express purpose of hiding his mark- his cursed brand. But now... They’re off. He has nothing to hide anymore. He’s safe, with his family, his own kind.

“...I’m a Libran, but I wasn’t born under the libra star.”

“I don’t... What does that have to do with anything?”

“Librans who are not born under the star die while still only a child. Sometimes even after birth. This is true to even the other children of the gods of Aether’s Compass. I... I barely survived, because I’m, as they called it... a dirtied bloodline. We all are, except for them.”

Fayette’s hand is still on his back, softly rubbing circles. She knows to be quiet. She can still feel the emotions of that very day where she- no, when Whilreanis- lost her brother for decades. It hurts.

“Papa... He took me to Aether’s Gate. It was his home, and I could heal there. Become attuned to my other bloodlines. It was the hub for learning advanced magic, without the greater backlash of leaving any of the other places in the Aether realm. It was it’s door. He... He stayed with me, for some time. But eventually he had to go. He said something bad was going to happen at home and he needed to be there.”

“...ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ... ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴀʀ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ?”

“...Perhaps. Weaver magic is strong like that. It only takes a simple Alteraza to determine the most l-likely sequence of events... b-but...”

His chest hurts. 

“He left me with a friend. Bunaloa, of the House of Necro. She... she took care of me. She was like a second mother to me, even if I c-couldn’t... E-even...”

Fayette’s now pulling him into a hug, hand moved to the top of his head. Soft touches. He needs to be calm.

“E-even... if I couldn’t remember much of our own mother. Buna... she died protecting me. When the war broke out. Sh-she told me t-to find a tear, to get out of there, b-because if I went through th-the gate, they’d follow me. I wouldn’t make it past the first world before I w-was slaughtered.”

“ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀ... ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ, ʟʜᴀʀᴇᴢᴇɴ?”

“It... It was the gods. Th-they... Their houses all suddenly broke o-out into battles. S-so many people died d-due to their allegiances, a-and... the other houses of Aether d-decided that the best course of action w-was to exterminate any dirtied bloods w-who existed. S-so many people... So many of us died. So many.”

His face hurts from scrunching up so much. It hurts.

“I-I watched... I watched her be burned. I watched so many others be burned. I had to leave. So many innocents were killed, dirtied or not. It’s hell. A-and I couldn’t f-fight, because then...”

“Yᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ’ᴠᴇ ᴇxᴩᴏꜱᴇᴅ yᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ. ɴᴏᴛ ᴏɴʟy ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ, ʙᴜᴛ... ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴅꜱ. Yᴏᴜ... Yᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ yᴏᴜɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪɴᴠᴏʟᴠᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴅꜱ, ɪ’ᴍ ꜱᴏʀʀy...”

“...You saying that just somewhat confirms m-my suspicions, Tenbrien.”

“Am I the only one lost here-?! What the hell are Librans, what does dirtied blood mean, and how the hell-”

“Beraich... Come sit down n-next to me. Please.”

“I- fine, as long as it... helps.”

He sits. Lharezen’s trembling, but he still takes Beriach’s left hand, his own marked hand on top of it. They glow in unison.

“We... are Librans. Children of the House of Balance, descendants of the god Libra. Fayette and I... we are considered dirtied, since our father’s house has its own unique mark that mixed with our own. At our cores, though, we have blessings of our ancestor. You.. You are also a Libra. This is the symbol of a typically unchanged Libran bloodline. We are family, no matter how distant of relatives we may be. It’s what binds us. What gives us our eyes.”

“What... what do you mean-?”

“You haven’t noticed...? Did Tenbrien not...?”

Beraich’s... not dealing with this well, but they turn to the ghost anyway, expression confused and terrified. What have they been hiding?

“ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴀᴡ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴇxɪꜱᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪꜱ... ᴇxᴄʟᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟɪʙʀᴀɴꜱ. ɪᴛ ᴍᴀɴɪꜰᴇꜱᴛꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇyᴇꜱ. ᴡɪᴛʜ... ꜰᴀyᴇᴛᴛᴇ, ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴇʀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟʜᴀʀᴇᴢᴇɴ, ᴀꜱ yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴇᴇ... ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟ ᴍɪx. ɢʀᴇᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴩᴜʀᴩʟᴇ, ʟɪᴋᴇ yᴏᴜ... ᴛʜᴇy ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴏᴄᴄᴜʀ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟʟy ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʀᴀᴡ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴇxɪꜱᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ, ᴛᴏᴏ.” “Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ʟɪʙʀᴀɴ, ʙᴇʀᴀɪᴄʜ. ʙᴜᴛ yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴy ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʟɪʙʀᴀɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ. Yᴏᴜ... ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ᴩᴜʀᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ yᴏᴜ, ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇʟʟ.”

“I- How the fuck do you know all this? What the fuck- Did you know about me this whole time-? What else did you know?”

His words sting with angered venom. Beraich is absolutely not happy with this. They hid this from them. They hid something that could give them any clue about their PAST from them. And for what?

“How much are you hiding from Fayette, too?! How much have you been hiding from the both of us, Tenbrien?!”

“вєяαι¢н, ρℓєαѕє...”

“No, I won’t shut up! What was the reason? Tell m-”

“Will you PLEASE shut your mouth.”

Lharezen’s voice is deafening and strained. He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like conflict. Beraich obliges, even though he’s still very much angry. They won’t get anywhere if they argue.

“Now then... I think you have a lot you need to say, Aloixiara.”

It’s subtle, but his glare... if looks could kill, Tenbrien would be dead several times over now.

“...Yᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ... ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀɴyᴍᴏʀᴇ. ɪ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ꜱᴏ ɪɴᴛᴇɴꜱᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟᴍ... ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʙᴇꜱᴛ yᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.” “ʙᴇʀᴀɪᴄʜ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ʜᴀʟꜰ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟᴏɪxɪᴀʀᴀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴇʟᴅᴇʀ. ᴍy ʟɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴀʟꜰ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴩᴀꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀyᴇᴛᴛᴇ’ꜱ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟy ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜꜱᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ yᴇᴀʀꜱ.” “ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴏꜰ ʟɪʙʀᴀ, ʙᴏʀɴ ᴀ ᴩᴜʀᴇ ᴀᴇᴛʜᴇʀɪᴀɴ. ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴇyʙʟᴀᴅᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴏʟᴏꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜꜱ, ᴡᴇ... ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴀyʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴛᴏᴡɴ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴩʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴇyʙʟᴀᴅᴇ ᴡᴀʀ ᴏꜰ ᴏʟᴅ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴡᴇ ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀyᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟᴇ ɪɴ ʜᴏᴩᴇ’ꜱ ᴩᴇᴀᴋ... ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟy.”

“Our... family? Hold on- I... I was told that the two of you went separate..?”

“ᴡᴇ ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ʜᴀʟᴠᴇꜱ, yᴇꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ... ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ. ᴏɴᴇ ɢɪʀʟ, ᴛᴡᴏ ʙᴏyꜱ.” 

"ᴀʙɪᴅᴇʟ, ᴄᴀᴠᴏʀᴀ, ᴀɴᴅ..."

“Yᴏᴜ, ʙᴇʀᴀɪᴄʜ.”

[dailyofficereadings]

Daily Office Readings August 03, 2020

Psalm 80

Psalm 80

Prayer for Israel’s Restoration

To the leader: on Lilies, a Covenant. Of Asaph. A Psalm.

1 Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel, you who lead Joseph like a flock! You who are enthroned upon the cherubim, shine forth 2 before Ephraim and Benjamin and Manasseh. Stir up your might, and come to save us!

3 Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved.

4 O Lord God of hosts, how long will you be angry with your people’s prayers? 5 You have fed them with the bread of tears, and given them tears to drink in full measure. 6 You make us the scorn[a] of our neighbors; our enemies laugh among themselves.

7 Restore us, O God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved.

8 You brought a vine out of Egypt; you drove out the nations and planted it. 9 You cleared the ground for it; it took deep root and filled the land. 10 The mountains were covered with its shade, the mighty cedars with its branches; 11 it sent out its branches to the sea, and its shoots to the River. 12 Why then have you broken down its walls, so that all who pass along the way pluck its fruit? 13 The boar from the forest ravages it, and all that move in the field feed on it.

14 Turn again, O God of hosts; look down from heaven, and see; have regard for this vine, 15 the stock that your right hand planted.[b] 16 They have burned it with fire, they have cut it down;[c] may they perish at the rebuke of your countenance. 17 But let your hand be upon the one at your right hand, the one whom you made strong for yourself. 18 Then we will never turn back from you; give us life, and we will call on your name.

19 Restore us, O Lord God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved.

Footnotes:

Psalm 80:6 Syr: Heb strife

Psalm 80:15 Heb adds from verse 17 and upon the one whom you made strong for yourself

Psalm 80:16 Cn: Heb it is cut down

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Psalm 77

Psalm 77

God’s Mighty Deeds Recalled

To the leader: according to Jeduthun. Of Asaph. A Psalm.

1 I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, that he may hear me. 2 In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted. 3 I think of God, and I moan; I meditate, and my spirit faints.Selah

4 You keep my eyelids from closing; I am so troubled that I cannot speak. 5 I consider the days of old, and remember the years of long ago. 6 I commune[a] with my heart in the night; I meditate and search my spirit:[b] 7 “Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? 8 Has his steadfast love ceased forever? Are his promises at an end for all time? 9 Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?”Selah 10 And I say, “It is my grief that the right hand of the Most High has changed.”

11 I will call to mind the deeds of the Lord; I will remember your wonders of old. 12 I will meditate on all your work, and muse on your mighty deeds. 13 Your way, O God, is holy. What god is so great as our God? 14 You are the God who works wonders; you have displayed your might among the peoples. 15 With your strong arm you redeemed your people, the descendants of Jacob and Joseph.Selah

16 When the waters saw you, O God, when the waters saw you, they were afraid; the very deep trembled. 17 The clouds poured out water; the skies thundered; your arrows flashed on every side. 18 The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightnings lit up the world; the earth trembled and shook. 19 Your way was through the sea, your path, through the mighty waters; yet your footprints were unseen. 20 You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

Footnotes:

Psalm 77:6 Gk Syr: Heb My music

Psalm 77:6 Syr Jerome: Heb my spirit searches

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Psalm 79

Psalm 79

Plea for Mercy for Jerusalem

A Psalm of Asaph.

1 O God, the nations have come into your inheritance; they have defiled your holy temple; they have laid Jerusalem in ruins. 2 They have given the bodies of your servants to the birds of the air for food, the flesh of your faithful to the wild animals of the earth. 3 They have poured out their blood like water all around Jerusalem, and there was no one to bury them. 4 We have become a taunt to our neighbors, mocked and derided by those around us.

5 How long, O Lord? Will you be angry forever? Will your jealous wrath burn like fire? 6 Pour out your anger on the nations that do not know you, and on the kingdoms that do not call on your name. 7 For they have devoured Jacob and laid waste his habitation.

8 Do not remember against us the iniquities of our ancestors; let your compassion come speedily to meet us, for we are brought very low. 9 Help us, O God of our salvation, for the glory of your name; deliver us, and forgive our sins, for your name’s sake. 10 Why should the nations say, “Where is their God?” Let the avenging of the outpoured blood of your servants be known among the nations before our eyes.

11 Let the groans of the prisoners come before you; according to your great power preserve those doomed to die. 12 Return sevenfold into the bosom of our neighbors the taunts with which they taunted you, O Lord! 13 Then we your people, the flock of your pasture, will give thanks to you forever; from generation to generation we will recount your praise.

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Judges 6:25-40

25 That night the Lord said to him, “Take your father’s bull, the second bull seven years old, and pull down the altar of Baal that belongs to your father, and cut down the sacred pole[a] that is beside it; 26 and build an altar to the Lord your God on the top of the stronghold here, in proper order; then take the second bull, and offer it as a burnt offering with the wood of the sacred pole[b] that you shall cut down.” 27 So Gideon took ten of his servants, and did as the Lord had told him; but because he was too afraid of his family and the townspeople to do it by day, he did it by night.

Gideon Destroys the Altar of Baal

28 When the townspeople rose early in the morning, the altar of Baal was broken down, and the sacred pole[c] beside it was cut down, and the second bull was offered on the altar that had been built. 29 So they said to one another, “Who has done this?” After searching and inquiring, they were told, “Gideon son of Joash did it.” 30 Then the townspeople said to Joash, “Bring out your son, so that he may die, for he has pulled down the altar of Baal and cut down the sacred pole[d] beside it.” 31 But Joash said to all who were arrayed against him, “Will you contend for Baal? Or will you defend his cause? Whoever contends for him shall be put to death by morning. If he is a god, let him contend for himself, because his altar has been pulled down.” 32 Therefore on that day Gideon[e] was called Jerubbaal, that is to say, “Let Baal contend against him,” because he pulled down his altar.

33 Then all the Midianites and the Amalekites and the people of the east came together, and crossing the Jordan they encamped in the Valley of Jezreel. 34 But the spirit of the Lord took possession of Gideon; and he sounded the trumpet, and the Abiezrites were called out to follow him. 35 He sent messengers throughout all Manasseh, and they too were called out to follow him. He also sent messengers to Asher, Zebulun, and Naphtali, and they went up to meet them.

The Sign of the Fleece

36 Then Gideon said to God, “In order to see whether you will deliver Israel by my hand, as you have said, 37 I am going to lay a fleece of wool on the threshing floor; if there is dew on the fleece alone, and it is dry on all the ground, then I shall know that you will deliver Israel by my hand, as you have said.” 38 And it was so. When he rose early next morning and squeezed the fleece, he wrung enough dew from the fleece to fill a bowl with water. 39 Then Gideon said to God, “Do not let your anger burn against me, let me speak one more time; let me, please, make trial with the fleece just once more; let it be dry only on the fleece, and on all the ground let there be dew.” 40 And God did so that night. It was dry on the fleece only, and on all the ground there was dew.

Footnotes:

Judges 6:25 Heb Asherah

Judges 6:26 Heb Asherah

Judges 6:28 Heb Asherah

Judges 6:30 Heb Asherah

Judges 6:32 Heb he

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Acts 2:37-47

The First Converts

37 Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and to the other apostles, “Brothers,[a] what should we do?” 38 Peter said to them, “Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. 39 For the promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him.” 40 And he testified with many other arguments and exhorted them, saying, “Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.” 41 So those who welcomed his message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. 42 They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

Life among the Believers

43 Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. 44 All who believed were together and had all things in common; 45 they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds[b] to all, as any had need. 46 Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home[c] and ate their food with glad and generous[d] hearts, 47 praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.

Footnotes:

Acts 2:37 Gk Men, brothers

Acts 2:45 Gk them

Acts 2:46 Or from house to house

Acts 2:46 Or sincere

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

John 1:1-18

The Word Became Flesh

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life,[a] and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8 He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. 9 The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.[b]

10 He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. 11 He came to what was his own,[c] and his own people did not accept him. 12 But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son,[d] full of grace and truth. 15 (John testified to him and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’”) 16 From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. 17 The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. 18 No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son,[e] who is close to the Father’s heart,[f] who has made him known.

Footnotes:

John 1:4 Or 3 through him. And without him not one thing came into being that has come into being. 4 In him was life

John 1:9 Or He was the true light that enlightens everyone coming into the world

John 1:11 Or to his own home

John 1:14 Or the Father’s only Son

John 1:18 Other ancient authorities read It is an only Son, God, or It is the only Son

John 1:18 Gk bosom

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

[thelemstar]

Rusty’s Trivia #1 - “The hells is a Nightkin  - and how did it happen?“

aka: oh boy, time for me to delve into his family history

Seems like the research isn’t going too well on his end. A short while ago, I’ve made the page for the bio of Rusty, my Final Fantasy XIV character. Fact is - beyond a bit of personal information and a few RP hooks, I very much deliberately omit backstory from character bios if I can help it. The reason for that being that a) I like people finding things out for themselves and b) there’s way too much I could possibly go into and I am absolute garbage at condensing things. However, as I figured none of this stuff is coming up in RP directly - as there’s no real way he’d ever find out all of it in person - but I still really want to write lore and condense it with already existing lore to give form to my complicated thought processes. Both to share it and to have motivation to get everything down on paper for myself, because dear freakin’ lord. Ultimately, I figured I might as well use Tumblr for doing so. This is going to be a long one, so bear with me.

To first of all explain in detail what these terms are properly - Nightkin are those that have made blood pacts with Voidsent, as well as their descendants, and Voidsent in turn are beings whose souls have been corrupted by astral darkness - a type of aether. That being said, the term Voidsent is apparently attributed by the people of Eorzea to everything that seems like it just couldn’t belong to their world. Astral aether / darkness is aether that causes chaos and is made up of wind, lightning and fire - as opposed to umbral aether / light, which causes stagnation and is made up of Water, earth and ice. Basically, there’s a whole order vs. chaos dichotomy going on - and normally, your soul needs both. Now, Voidsent have so much astral darkness they they might as well be astral darkness, driving them to insanity and giving them an insatiable hunger for living aether in the futile search of reattaining a normal balance of soul. Meaning they can and will eat you. Their home world - the Void - is entirely devoid of living aether, thanks to all of it being in constant flux. Voidsent are basically this verse’s version of demons, which so happens to be the name of one of the many subtypes of them, as well as an alternative way to refer to their species as a whole. The other side of the spectrum - Sin Eaters - can and will also eat you, and they’re the angel equivalent of this verse. Yikes.

The eternal night of the Void. Actually very pretty for a post-apocalyptic hellhole in which no life can survive. Then they get summoned from the Void and people enslave or make pacts with them to attain more power in black magic - meaning astral magic, meaning chaotic magic made to destroy things really hard, judging by the DPS a good Black Mage can do. So far, so good. Unfortunately, a certain whole nation of black mages - Mhach - ended up causing a war and summoning a whole lot of Voidsent to do it. And unlike the Allagans before them, who created the art but had no countermeasures in case things went wrong - and they eventually did - the Mhachi made void magic kind of their big thing. Mhach summoned weaker Voidsent by weakening the fabric between worlds to create a gate. However, to summon stronger Voidsent of their hierarchy, they needed to use corporeal vessels - so the Voidsent that was intended to be summoned could enter their world by means of possessing their body and taking their soul as tribute. Buon appetito! As you might be able to guess, this will be important later. They fought with the nation of white mages - Amdapor - and basically ended up causing the Great Flood because none of them cared enough to actually use water magic. Fittingly, the offensive toolkit of player black mages is fire / ice / lightning, and earth / wind for white mages. Water magic is only part of healing and support abilities, meaning Amdapori white mages forgot to actually heal while they were doing damage. Thus, the Amdapori were shitty white mages. Q.E.D. Seeing as the rampant, uncontrolled use of magic caused an apocalypse, the last few remaining mages of the time banned black and white magic and instead developed red magic in the country their ark ended up in - Ala Mhigo. Red magic uses a balance of both black and white magic and balances it with sword fighting techniques to limit the use of aether - in red magic, aether is only drawn from your own body instead of directly from your surroundings, thus requiring a significantly more efficient design of the discipline instead of “big explosions = big damage” - as is the black mage creed.

Yes, this ark is a real thing. It’s somehow still in decent shape - even after more than 1500 years! However, as we find out in the actual quest line for red mages investigating the Ziggurat in the Peaks, the earliest forms of it experimented with a lot of interesting things. Interesting things such as blood pacts with Voidsent to defy the physical limits of the mages. Clearly the result of some lingering Mhachi influence - and after considering that maybe this is a bit too dangerous, as it will end up with enslaved Voidsent freeing themselves and rampantly devouring everything they can get their hands on, as well as gradually corrupting the souls of your entire bloodline, this was promptly outlawed from the discipline. And this is where Rusty’s family comes into play. The last remnants of his family - who came over from the island nation of Aerslaent because everything there got flooded over - partook in research with blood pacts, thus causing their entire bloodline to be cursed with Voidsent blood. And unless the pacts were to be forcibly severed by using a Mhachi device called the Nullstone - their final solution to Voidsent troubles - the taint doesn’t truly go away, instead staying dormant until any further interference happens. Unfortunately, the Nullstone was still in the Mhachi capital - guarded by the immortal void mage Calofisteri, who is not exactly thrilled to give it up and be at risk to lose her power. To make everything worse, Rusty’s ancestors decided that their Voidsent target of choice was to be one of the highest rung - a Voidsent king they called Ba’al. Meaning they sacrificed one of their own to pull the soul of Ba’al into their body - offering up the soul of said poor person in the process - then took his blood for their research. Ba’al was eventually banished back into the Void - his now completely deformed host body included. Again, yikes. Naturally, they weren’t keen on still sticking around in Ala Mhigo and being witch hunted for good reason and thus eventually went back to their homeland - migrating across the continent Ilsabard, to the Far East, across the New World and then back to Aerslaent. They and their descendants continue to inspire stories of witches and monsters all across the globe. Probably.

No. Not you, Rusty. Try and act scary all you like. Rusty Axe is just another descendant of that family of black mages, born in Ala Mhigo more than a millenium and a half after the Great Flood - his father having previously left said family in Aerslaent and traveled the continent of Eorzea as a warrior mercenary. As to what happened next - that’ll be explained once I decide to do Trivia #2. Which may be whenever I get enough inspiration. Stay tuned! If you seriously just read this entire essay on this entirely fictional science and history and how it ties into my OC lore-wise, kudos to you. Seriously.